Hope Is Born Again
by flashpenguin
Summary: Widowed/single parent Joss Carter is prepared to spend another holiday alone - but not if her 10 year old son Taylor has anything to say about it. Armed with a letter to Santa, he's requesting a new dad for the holidays. Then Police Officer John Reese drops unexpectedly into their lives via a parking ticket. Is it a miracle gone sideways? Or will it be a Christmas wish come true?
1. Chapter 1

_It's Christmas time again! The season of cheer and love, but it can also be the season of sadness and memories when you have no one to share it with. And that is where the faith of a child comes in to play. As I celebrate my fifth full year of fanfic writing, I've decided to center my newest holiday story around our favourite POI characters in an original Christmas story. It might be a little AU, but the message of finding love during the holiday season still remains the same._

 _I don't own Person of Interest._

 ** _Song prompt: "Hope Is Born Again" by Jim Brickman and Point of Grace._**

 _This story is dedicated to the cast of Person of Interest - for without their wonderful portrayals of the fictional characters on the show, we writers would not have anything to work with. Thank you._

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

Joss Carter hit the alarm on the nightstand beside the bed and rolled over. Morning had come again, and it was time for her to rise and shine, but she didn't care. If she had it her way, she would go back to bed and stay until she couldn't anymore. But the logical part of her knew that it wasn't possible.

"I hate Mondays," she groaned to herself and willed her body to sit up on the side of the mattress. Blindly her feet searched for the slippers, only to find nothing but a cold, wood floor. "What in the world?" she muttered to herself.

Crawling out of the warm bed, she knelt down and fished for the shoes. Finding one, she slipped it on, then blindly searched for its mate. Twice, three times her hand felt around, but came up with nothing but cobwebs. Rubbing her arm over her nightgown, she pushed back in defeat.

"Okay, I came in, and I placed them under the bed," she told herself aloud as she retraced her steps from the night before. "Where is it?"

Standing up, she looked around the room, but it was no where in sight. Hands on her hips, she tried to tap down her anger.

"I hate Mondays," she repeated and walked toward the bathroom. As she crossed the threshold, she suddenly lurched forward. Looking down, she saw her missing slipper. A small mew came from inside. She reached inside.

"What are you doing in my slipper?" she asked gently as she fished the small blue-grey kitten out. Startled at being rudely awoken from her warm, comfortable sleep, the kitten stared at Joss with fear.

"Mew."

Joss sighed. "I don't know how you found my slipper and brought it over here," she chastised the kitten. "But I didn't mean to step on you."

"Mew."

"You got lucky." Carrying the kitten gently in her hands, Joss set her on the bed. "Now you stay there until I finish doing what I need to," she instructed firmly. "Then we'll go wake Taylor together. Deal?"

"Mew."

Joss picked up the slipper and placed it on her foot. "Stay," she ordered, then closed the bathroom door.

In response, the kitten turned around on the down comforter and nested herself in its warmth. And waited.  
********

"Do you want cereal or waffles?" Joss asked as she took down the canister of coffee from the cabinet. Prying off the lid, she reached for the scooper. "Where is the scooper?" she asked rhetorically.

"Pancakes," Taylor replied from his seat at the round table set in the middle of the kitchen. He was busy drawing a picture in his notebook and didn't pay much mind to his mother's question.

"We don't have time for pancakes," Joss answered. "Where is the scooper?" She pulled open the drawers and searched for the little plastic device that could help aid in her return to full consciousness.

"But that's what I want."

"Cereal or waffles," Joss repeated. "Those are your options." Giving up the futile search, she took a tablespoon from the holder and used it to measure the grounds. "One. Two. Three..." Under her breath she counted out what she presumed was enough to make a pot of coffee.

"Waffles," Taylor decided.

Satisfied that she had an adequate amount of grounds, she poured the water into the holder and turned on the machine. Ten seconds later it gurgled the familiar brewing sound. Maybe it wasn't going to be such a bad day after all.

"Okay," she said and turned to face her son. "Waffles it is." Pulling open the door on the freezer, she reached for the box of pre-made waffles. "How many do-" she started to ask, but stopped when her hand found nothing inside. She peered inside to make sure that she hadn't missed something.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you that I ate the last waffle yesterday," Taylor said as an afterthought. His head stayed bowed as he furiously coloured in the drawing.

"You could have told me, Taylor." Joss threw the box toward the trash can, and missed. "Ugh!" She stomped over to the other side of the room. Retrieving the box from the floor, she shoved it into the trash can with a little more force than necessary.

Taylor set the pencil down and looked contrite. "I'm sorry, Mom."

Joss closed her eyes and counted to ten. "It's alright. I'll buy some more tonight. How about cereal?"

"Sure." Joss opened the refrigerator door. Then her shoulders dropped. "No milk?"

"You were going to get some yesterday," Taylor remembered.

"Uh! I hate Mondays," she muttered under her breath.

"It's Thursday, Mom."

"That makes it worse," she moaned and tried not to give into self-pity. Looking at the half-filled carafe, she took a mug down from the cabinet and filled it with the freshly brewed java. Taking a sip, she blanched, then spit it into the sink. "Yuck!"

"Are we going to go see Santa Claus?" Taylor asked out of the blue.

Joss poured the remnants of the coffee into the sink and turned on the tap to rinse it down the drain. "What?"

"Are we going to go see Santa Claus?" Taylor repeated.

"At the North Pole?" she asked vaguely, trying to side-step the conversation.

Taylor rolled his eyes. "He's at the mall."

"I don't know, T. It depends if I can get the time off from work," she replied noncommittally.

"You always say that."

"It's a busy season," she made the weak excuse.

"So was Thanksgiving and Valentine's Day," Taylor listed off the previous holidays that interfered with the plans he formed before they were dashed.

"Why do you want to see Santa?" she wondered and opened the loaf of bread. Taking two slices out, she placed them in the toaster and pushed the lever down.

"It's a school project."

Joss turned around. "Come again."

"We have to write to Santa and tell him what we want more than anything and mail it to the North Pole," Taylor said. "But I don't want to mail it because the post office is never reliable. I thought that you could take me to see him at the mall and I could hand him my letter instead," he reasoned.

"You know that Santa isn't real, right?" Joss asked carefully.

"How do you know?' Taylor shot back.

"Because..." She tried to think of a reasonable argument but came up short. The sound of the toast popping up interrupted her thoughts. Grabbing the containers of margarine and jam from the refrigerator, she busied spreading the contents on the bread.

"My teacher says the same thing," Taylor admitted reluctantly. "He says that Santa is just a way to make people believe in something that isn't real and make them spend money they don't have."

Surprised, Joss turned her head to look at her son. "Your teacher actually said that?"

"Sort of. I read between the lines."

"You're ten, Taylor. You can't read between the lines." She placed the small plate on the table. "Eat. Then I'll drive you to school."

"Maybe if I had a dad, he could take me to the mall," Taylor mused and took a huge bite of the toast.

Biting her tongue, Joss busied herself by taking out the orange juice and pouring two glasses. She set one of the glasses in front of Taylor. "Drink."

"You can always get married again."

"Taylor..."

"It's been long enough, Mom," he said and took a long sip of the juice. "You should get married again."

Joss looked at her watch. "Finish eating so you can brush your teeth; we need to go." She finished the orange juice and placed the glass in the dishwasher.

Knowing the argument was pointless, Taylor folded the remainder of the toast up and shoved it in his mouth.

"Done," he mumbled with his mouth full. Pushing his chair back, Taylor ambled down the short hallway, toward the bathroom. Behind him trailed the small kitten. The door closed with a click.

Joss sighed. It was going to be a long day.

Three minutes later the door opened. "I'm ready to go," Taylor announced.

"Feed the kitten," Joss reminded him.

Taylor hurried into the kitchen and opened the bottom cabinet door. "Here Kitty," he called and shook the box. Mewing, the kitten ran over to the empty dish. Taylor poured the box, but only a few kibbles poured out.

"Shaw is out of food, Mom."

Joss pressed two fingers to her forehead and prayed for patience. "I'll get some at lunch." Taking her phone out of her purse, she clicked on the notepad. Quickly she typed in the items they were going to need.

"There. Can you think of anything else?" she asked.

Taylor gulped down the juice and carried his dishes and placed them in the dishwasher beside the glass. "A tree."

"Later, Taylor." She dropped the phone back into the purse.

"Maybe Saturday?" he asked hopefully. "After we see Santa?" He pasted on what he knew was his most charming of smiles. Taking the coat from the hook beside the door, he slipped it on, then zipped it up. He followed it with the heavy knit hat and scarf.

Joss started to argue, then hesitated. "Maybe."

"Maybe yes, or maybe no?" he asked.

"Maybe...get your backpack so you're not late to school," she finished with enough authority to end the discussion.

Taylor dropped his shoulders dramatically. "Okay," he conceded. Maybe he could work on her later, he thought to himself. He slid his backpack on. "Ready, Mom."

"Okay. Where are my keys?" she asked.

"On the counter, Mom."

Joss grabbed them and her purse. "Let's go." She opened the door and let Taylor walk out to the porch. Then she turned out the light and closed the door behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

_The seed is being planted._

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

The sounds of locker doors slamming and feet running echoed in the wide hallway as the warning bell announcing the next period class rang through the loudspeakers.

Taylor opened his locker door and took out his math and Language Arts books.

"Hey, T," Sam Gates said and tapped his friend on the shoulder.

Taylor pulled back and closed the door. "Hi Sam. What's up?"

"Did you get your homework done?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Sort of." Sam hiked his backpack higher on his shoulder. "I wasn't sure what to write."

"That's easy. Just ask for what you want more than anything in the world." Turning the tumbler a couple of times, Taylor pulled on the handle to make sure it was secure. "Let's go before we're late."

The two boys made their way thru the sea of bodies until they got to the stairs. Single file, they descended.

"I don't know what I want," Sam confessed.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean; I don't know what I want. I got the coolest dad on earth, and I got great friends. I can't think of anything that I need."

"What about a new mom?"

"I guess. I don't know. I miss my mom and all, but I don't know..." They stopped by the water fountain. Sam leaned over and pressed the button to release a stream of water. Leaning down, he sipped enough to wet his whistle. Standing up, he wiped his hand across his mouth. "What about you? What did you ask for?"

"The same thing I've been asking for since I was little: A dad."

"So, what's the problem? How come you have to keep asking?" Sam wondered. The pair started walking again.

"I don't know. Maybe it's because I keep mailing it."

"Yeah, the post office sucks."

"Tell me about it. But this time, I'm going to do something different," Taylor declared. "I'm going to take it to Santa myself."

Eyes wide, Sam stared at his best friend in awe. "Wow! Really?"

"Can't get lost. Then he can tell me yes or no to my face."

"You think he's going to say yes?"

"He has to; he's Santa."

"So, you're going up to the North Pole?" Sam wondered.

Taylor made a face. "No. I'm making my mom take me to the mall on Saturday."

"You know that guy isn't the real Santa," Sam pointed out matter of factly.

Taylor tried to remain cool at the slight insult by laughing. "Duh. He's like the stand-in when Santa can't be there. You know, like an employee to help Santa get all the requests."

"A Santa union. That's cool. So, you think he'll get it?"

"I hope so. My mom is great, but there are things that you can only talk to a dad about," Taylor reasoned.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Dads are pretty cool," Sam agreed. "I hope you get your wish. But what are you going to do when Mr. Finch wants us to mail our letter?"

Taylor shrugged. "That's simple. I wrote two."

"Cool."

The pair entered the classroom just as the final bell rang. Quickly they took their seats.

Adjusting his glasses, the non-descriptive, short man smiled at the thirty students who had been entrusted to him to teach and learn and nurture. He loved every moment of being able to plant the seed of knowledge in the brain of the new generation.

"Good morning class," Harold Finch greeted from his seat on the corner of the large wooden desk. "If you'll pull out your homework and pass it down, I'll take it." The rustling of paper filled the small room. Gathering the sheets of paper, Harold quickly counted them to make sure the number of papers matched the number of students.

"Okay. When I call your name, I want you to come forward and read your Christmas List out loud. Then you're going to fold it and put it in the envelope I'm providing, then when we're done, I'll take them to the post office on my way home tonight."

A murmur of excitement started low and began to build.

"Let's keep it down," Harold announced. He shuffled the papers so he could choose one randomly. Pulling out the sheet of notebook paper, he looked at the name, then at the students. "Taylor Carter."

Taylor sat up straight. "Yes, sir?"

"Front and centre." Harold held up the paper. Taylor stood up and walked to where his teacher stood. "Ready? Start us off."

Taylor looked down at the words he had printed in neat script on the line notebook paper. The request he had thought long and hard over was now about to be read in front of his peers and friends.

" _Dear Santa,"_ he began slowly _, "When I was three, my dad died in an accident. I don't really remember him, but my mom says he was a really good guy who loved me with all of his heart. I keep his picture next to my bed, but it isn't like having him with me._

 _So I'm writing you to ask for a new dad. Preferably one who likes to play basketball and baseball, but if he just likes to watch them on TV, that's okay, too. I just want him to be really cool and understanding – oh, and to like me and my mom. Of course, Mom says that she isn't ready to marry again, but I think it's because she hasn't found the right guy. So, if you can make it so my mom and him fall in love, I would really appreciate it. Thank you._

 _Yours truly, Taylor Carter."_

A hush fell over the class as Taylor finished the letter. With hopeful eyes, he looked at his teacher who gave a nod of approval.

"That was very good, Taylor. I'm sure that if there is a Santa Claus, you will get your wish answered," he complimented with a warm smile. He handed Taylor the letter and an envelope. "Get it ready, and I'll mail it."

"Thanks, Mr. Finch." Taylor folded the letter and slipped it into the envelope.

"You may take your seat." Mr. Burton shuffled the papers again. "Candace Cain," he called out.

As the young girl made her way to the front of the room, Taylor sat down at his desk.

"That was really good," Sam whispered as he leaned over quickly so he wouldn't get caught.

"Thanks." Taylor opened his folder and pulled out his notebook and flipped to the section where he had a copy of the letter. Touching it, he nodded.

"I just need to believe," he whispered softly.  
******

"So, are you coming to the party on Saturday?" Lionel Fusco asked and looked at the tall man walking beside him.

"Probably not," John Reese said and scanned the area for anything out of the ordinary. It was colder than usual, but the wind wasn't blowing, so he was happy. Still, he would much rather prefer the warmth of the patrol car.

"Samantha is hoping you will."

"I don't think it's going to be a good idea," John evaded carefully.

"It's been five years, John. It's time to move on."

"Eh." John rubbed his gloved hands together. "I'm not ready."

"Yeah. That's why you turned down the date with that hot looking woman from City Hall a month ago," Lionel groused. "You should have your head examined."

"It's too soon."

Lionel spied the food cart. "Come on," he invited. "I'll buy you a hot chocolate." He opened the door and stepped out into the freezing cold air.

"I'm not thirsty," John protested as an afterthought. Hurrying around, he joined his partner on the sidewalk.

"You don't have to drink it; use it to warm your hands." Lionel walked over to the cart. "Two hot chocolates," he ordered. "And one pretzel."

The vendor took out a hot, fresh twisted bread from the warmer and wrapped it in wax paper. He handed it to Lionel. Then he turned around and readied two styrofoam cups. Pushing the lids down, he placed them on the counter.

"That will be seven dollars."

"Pay the man," Lionel told his partner.

"What?"

"I can't get to my wallet because my hands are full."

John considered arguing, then changed his mind. Taking his wallet out, he fished out a ten dollar bill and handed it over. He waited for his change.

"Thanks, partner," Lionel said and handed one of the cups to John. "It will come back to you in tenfold."

"I'd rather it come back to me in a ten dollar bill."

"Let's go check the school out before it gets dark."

"The high point of the beat," John muttered. "The screaming sounds of children on a playground."

"Aw, come on, pal. Don't you look at them and see the innocence we used to have?"

"Depends."

"That's because you don't have any kids." Lionel took a bite of the pretzel. "If you had a rug rat, you'd see it differently," he garbled around the mouthful of salty bread.

"I'll take your word on it." John sipped the scalding hot chocolate.

"Man, she really did a number on you."

"Let it go, Lionel."

Driving down the road, John maneuvered the patrol car down the slightly busy street, around a corner, and into a well to do neighbourhood. As they approached the large brick school building, they were suddenly on alert by the lone figure running down the pathway.

"What the -?" Lionel exclaimed as the person tried to hurry down the stairs, tripped, then went sprawling across the sidewalk. Immediately John threw the car in park, grabbed his cover, and hurried out to render assistance. Lionel was on his heels.

"Are you okay?" John called out to the man who was lying on his back like a helpless turtle.

"I am alright, but I can't get up."

"Here." John leaned down and extended a hand. "Take my hand." With a little maneuvering, the man was pulled up so he could stand on his feet.

"Thank you."

"Here." Lionel handed over the glasses to the man.

"I thank you, officers."

"Where's the fire?" John asked gently, but his trained eye was scanning the area for anything or anyone amiss who could have been chasing the man with intent to harm.

"No fire, Officer. Quite the contrary. I'm late."

"For a very important date?" Lionel quipped with a touch of humour.

"I was on my way to the post office, but I was detained by an unexpected meeting. Now I'm afraid that I won't make it in time."

"Uh, mister..."

"Harold Finch. I'm a teacher here."

"Mr. Finch," John began. "Maybe we can help. Lionel, give me a hand." Together the pair quickly scooped up every letter from the sidewalk and street. Harold held his briefcase open so the letters could be deposited inside. As the last letter went in, he closed the lid and locked it.

"Do you need a ride?" John asked politely.

"Not necessary Officer Reese, since the post office is just a block away." Harold looked at his watch. "If I hurry, I am sure I can get there before they lock the doors."

Turning on his heel, Harold quickly ambled down the sidewalk. Lionel and John watched as he disappeared from view.

"Well...that was..." Lionel searched for an appropriate word to describe what had just transpired. "...interesting," he finished and wiped his hand across his forehead.

"To say the least," John agreed. He tried not to read too much into what happened.

"That took all the energy out of me," Lionel stated. "I'm hungry."

"Yep. Always thinking with your stomach, Lionel."

"Well, I have a pretzel calling my name."

"What's Sam going to say?"

"Nothing. This is my reward for a job well done."

"That's called your paycheque, Lionel."

"Just the same." Lionel opened the door of the patrol car and stepped inside. "You coming? We still got rounds."

"On my...way..." John's voice trailed off as his eye caught a white piece of paper propped up by the wall. "What's this?" He knelt down and picked it up. He turned it over to read the bold lettering: **SANTA CLAUS. NORTH POLE.**

"Hurry up, Wonderboy," Lionel called thru the small crack in the window.

"On my way." John pocketed the envelope and hurried over to the car and slid inside. A call came over the radio. "Looks like break time is over," he said. "Radio that we're on our way," he told Lionel as he threw the engine into drive.


	3. Chapter 3

_My Christmas story, and that is why in this AU version Shaw is the kitten and Root is married to Lionel. Why? Because I'm not a huge Shaw fan, and my daughter likes Root, and we both adore Fusco, that's why._

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

Exhausted, Joss straightened the stack of papers and bound them together with a rubber band, then threw them in her briefcase. She tried not to sigh, but the stress of the day was nipping at her heels.

"Oh, I need a drink," she said out loud and looked at her friend and partner.

"Me, too," Samantha Groves-Fusco agreed and zipped her carryall case. "Is it Friday yet?"

"No. It's Thursday."

"Uh. Is there a full moon out?"

"I don't think so," Joss said, but she had her doubts. Their legal-aid agency had been busier than usual – and although they weren't complaining, they were in need of a break.

Samantha looked at her watch. "It's six o'clock. We missed lunch. What do you say we go grab something to eat?" she asked.

Joss mulled the offer over for a moment. "I have to get Taylor from my mother's place so I can give her a break."

"I'm buying..."

"Oooo, it's tempting, but..." Joss shook her head. "I can't. Maybe I can take a rain check." She put her purse strap on her shoulder. "Let's go."

The pair departed the room, locking the door behind them. Together they waited for the elevator that would carry them to the parking garage and officially end the day.

"Are you still coming to the party on Saturday?" Samantha inquired.

"I don't think so, Sam."

"What? You don't have a sitter for Taylor?"

"No," Joss contradicted. "That's not the problem..." The elevator dinged to announce its arrival. As the doors opened, the women stepped inside the tiny box.

"You need to get out more, Joss," Samantha chastised gently.

"I know. It's just..." Joss tried to think of a logical excuse to help her back out of her best friend's party and not hurt her feelings in the process. "I'm not one for parties."

"You used to be. Before Paul died, you were the life of the party. Then he died and you just...you shut yourself away."

"I get out."

"Grocery stores, PTA meetings, and coming to work, don't count," Samantha returned logically. "You need to get back in the dating scene."

"Sam..." She didn't want to argue the hows and whys; she wanted to get home and take a long bath.

"I know a couple of great guys who would love to meet you."

Joss held up her hands. "No. I'm not ready." Samantha tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. Joss shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. "What? I'm not."

"It's been seven years, Joss. You need to move on."

A pained expression darted across Joss' face. "I...can't. A part of me wants to, but...I need more time. Besides, there aren't that many great guys out there." She gave a short laugh. "Heh. There aren't even that many _good_ guys out there; I'll save myself the heartache."

"I..." Samantha started to protest, but realized that it was futile. The elevator dinged to alert them that they had arrived. "At least think about going to the party. Lionel and I would love to have you."

"I'll think about it, okay?" Joss partially conceded. "But considering the day I've had, I would rather just head home and relax."

"One missing slipper makes not a string of bad luck," Samantha soothed gently. "You might get started off on the wrong foot, though."

"Very funny."

"I'm right."

"Uh. I just remembered that I have to go to the store and pick up some things."

"Call me later?"

"Will do."

"Drive safe," Samantha back over her shoulder as she walked to her car.

"You too."

Joss hurried to her car and hit the button to unlock the door. Getting inside, she immediately buckled up and then turned on the ignition to begin warming up the interior. Taking out her phone, she pressed a number.

"Hi, Mom," she greeted after the beep."I just got out of the office...I know; late nights, early mornings...Just wanted to make sure Taylor is okay. Tell him that I'm on my way to the store and I'll pick him up in about thirty minutes. Love you. Bye."

Joss hit the end button and placed the phone back in the purse. She closed her eyes and tried to relax. She didn't really want to go to the store, but Taylor did need to eat. There was no way around that one.

Putting the car in drive, she slowly maneuvered out of the parking space, toward the exit, then merged into the steady flow of traffic. And all the while she was debating. There was the hassle and stress of going into the grocery store – after parking a half a lot away. No, she didn't want to walk tonight. She wanted to breeze in and breeze out. So when the corner drugstore appeared like a beacon in the night, Joss figured she had nothing to lose.

"Run in, run out, and beat the long lines," she recited the motto with a satisfied smile. Guiding the sedan toward the curb, she parked as near the front entrance as she dare.

"Purse and keys," she recited and checked before departing the car. Reaching into her purse, she started to grab some coins but paused when she saw that the meter still had twenty minutes left. "Must be my lucky night," she told herself and dropped the coins back in the purse.

Pulling open the door, she quickly went over her mental list of items she needed. With any luck, she would be in and out in under five minutes.  
******

As the patrol car made it's drive by, John was feeling anything but enthusiastic. A shift that normally flew by was trudging along at a snail's pace. It wasn't that he was hoping for something to happen, he just was bored with what wasn't.

"Let's park and walk for a while," Lionel suggested and shifted in the passenger seat.

"I thought you hated the cold."

"I got to get the blood flowing."

"All of those carbs you ate are binding you up, Lionel," John chided.

"Okay. How about you pull over next to that drugstore so I can use the head? I can get my walk in, take care of business..."

"And grab a snack on the way back," John finished.

"It's a win-win-win."

"When Samantha hears about all you've put away today..." John didn't want to get in the middle of a martial conflict, but he felt the need to point out the obvious to his best – soon to be dead – friend.

"You're not going to tell her."

"Okay. But it's your funeral."

"Hey! That meter's expired," Lionel pointed out as they slowed down. "Looks like you can keep yourself busy while I rush inside."

John pulled over and parked. Reaching down, he pulled his clipboard out. Then he set his hat on his head and stepped out into the street. He looked to see Lionel hurry thru the front door and disappear. Taking a look at the license plate, he started to jot down the information.

Meanwhile, inside the store, Joss tapped her foot impatiently. What should have take a couple of minutes had stretched to nearly ten. Between the customer and the person behind the counter deciding to take that moment to catch up, and now the woman in front of her whose card refused to work... Joss tried to count to ten, but her patience was quickly retreating in the other direction.

Finally, it was her turn.

"Find everything okay?" the cashier tried to make polite small talk as she scanned the few items.

"Yeah. Sure." Joss started to pull out her wallet. "How much do I owe you?"

"13.82. Will that be credit or debit?"

"Credit." Joss slid her card and hit the appropriate buttons.

The bell over the door jingle to alert that a customer had walked in. "Hey, Sharon," the little old lady with a cane greeted happily.

"Hi Mrs. Washington. How are you?" Sharon replied back and hit the buttons on the register to complete the transaction.

"I'm fine, but someone's about to get some coal in their stocking," Mrs. Washington said. "Looks like they're getting a parking ticket." With a shrug, she slowly made her way over to the register to grab a hand basket.

Joss jerked her head up. "Ticket? Where?" She stood on tiptoes to peer out the window.

"Silver sedan, parked right outside the door," Mrs. Washington described casually and moved down the aisle. "I hope it doesn't ruin their Christmas, poor dears," she muttered under her breath.

"Oh, my God!" Joss exclaimed as it slowly dawned on her that it was her car being ticketed. "Hurry!" she ordered the cashier. "Hurry!" She started throwing the items in the plastic bags with one hand, while with the other she motioned for the receipt.

"Do you want to sign up for a rewards card?" Sharon asked politely oblivious to the event that was unfolding right in front of her.

"Not today." Joss grabbed the receipt.

"You should really double bag the milk," Sharon cautioned.

"No time." Scooping up the bags, Joss hurried out to sidewalk. "Hey! That's my car you're ticketing," she called out to the cop who was busily signing the pink slip.

"Maybe you should have put money in the meter before you parked and walked off," John replied evenly.

"It had twenty minutes on it when I pulled up," Joss argued. "And I was gone for less than ten, so it couldn't have expired."

"Well, it's expired."

Emotions threatened to overwhelm. "Can't you cut me a little slack this time?" Joss asked, trying not to degrade herself by pleading.

"Sorry. Maybe the next time you'll remember to put coins in the machine," John replied and ripped the ticket off the clipboard.

"Look, Officer, I've had a really long day, and I just stopped to buy milk for my son. I swear that I was only inside for a few minutes."

"Here you go." John handed over the ticket.

Joss moved to take the pink piece of paper. The jerking motion caused the bag to swing, then suddenly the gallon of milk fell to the ground. It burst upon impact sending milk outward to drench Joss and John from the knees down.

Stunned, Joss felt her eyes well up with tears. Helplessly she looked at the mess.

"I'm sorry," John apologized suddenly contrite. "Let me get that for you," he offered and began to kneel down.

"I got it," Joss brushed off his offer to help.

John reached for broken jug. "It's no problem..."

"I said that I have it," Joss replied thru clenched teeth. She took the plastic jug back with just a little more force than necessary.

"I can buy you another gallon," John offered the olive branch.

"I don't want another gallon, thank you."

"If you'll just let me -" Usually cool under pressure, John could feel himself suddenly losing control of the situation.

Joss took the soiled bag and plastic jug and threw them in the trashcan beside the building. Opening the door, she stuck her head inside. "My milk fell and busted open on the sidewalk; you might want to hose it down," she suggested, then closed the door.

"Is there anything else?" she asked John. She wasn't going to cry. Not right now. And not in front of him.

Looking at her in the glow of the streetlights, John suddenly felt his breath catch in his chest. He went to speak, but the words failed him. He was almost ashamed that despite her mussed hair and being bathed in milk, he was inexplicably attracted to the woman with the big, tear filled, brown eyes – the same brown eyes that could freeze him on the spot if she so desired.

"No," he said in a voice just barely loud enough not to be considered a whisper.

Joss took the ticket out of his hand, and for a brief moment their fingers brushed. Oblivious to the moment, Joss hurried around the car. Unlocking the doors, she threw the remainder of the items on the passenger seat. Snapping on her seat belt, she started the engine and slowly pulled away.

John watched as the car drove away into the night. He almost didn't hear Lionel walk up behind him.

"What the hell happened here?" Lionel asked as he looked down at the milk drenched sidewalk and partner who was literally speechless.

"Parking ticket," John replied simply.

Unsure how to reply, Lionel looked down at the mess, then in the same direction as his partner. "Sorry I missed it."


	4. Chapter 4

_I can't believe how much fun I'm having writing this!_

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

"Can you believe that he gave me a parking ticket?" Joss ranted angrily as she used a fork to chop the spaghetti on her plate. "A parking ticket! I wasn't in the store maybe ten minutes, and he gives me a parking ticket!"

"Well..." Samantha began but was interrupted.

"And then he adds insult to injury by offering to buy me a gallon of milk," Joss continued her rant. "As thought _that_ is going to take away the sting of me having to shell out sixty dollars."

"Fight it."

Joss stopped twirling her fork. "It's not about the money."

"Then...?" Samantha prompted.

"It's the principle of the thing. And it put the icing on the cake of a really crummy day, and a crummier week." Joss set the fork down and rested her head in her hands.

"It's not that bad."

"It is," Joss bemoaned. "Now I have Taylor trying to talk me into a tree and taking him to go see Santa."

"You don't have a tree?"

"Have you ever seen me with a tree?" Joss shot back.

"Well, no. I just thought this year would be different."

"It's not worth the hassle. Besides, my mother has one, and that is where a majority of the gifts are, so why spend more money?" Joss reasoned logically.

"Point made and taken."

Joss looked perplexed. "I just don't understand the Santa Clause fixation. Shouldn't he be over that?"

"Did you ask him?"

Joss nodded. "I did, but he won't tell me. Says it's a 'school project'." Samantha looked flummoxed by the reply. "I know, I thought the same thing."

"Maybe he's got a secret wish."

"I don't know."

"But that cop...he seems to have made an impression on you," Samantha observed as she changed the subject.

"A bad impression."

"Still..." Samantha took a piece of garlic bread from the basket and broke off a piece. "This is the most emotion I've seen you express over a guy in years."

"It's not 'emotion', Sam," Joss corrected tightly. "I'm angry."

"Maybe you should have let him buy you the milk. Then slipped him your number."

Joss blinked in surprise. "What? Like, 'Hey, when you get finished writing me the ticket, why don't we go get a drink'? Maybe I should have let him pay for the ticket," she added sarcastically.

"Mmmm hmmm."

Joss tilted her head in query. "What does that mean?"

"You got it bad."

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't touched your lunch. The woman who is nuts for starch nearly pulverized those poor noodles," Samantha joked.

Joss looked down at her plate. "I..." She tried to force a smile to lighten the moment. "I don't know what's gotten into me."

"He got under your skin."

"Heh. Don't be ridiculous. He's a pain. That's all."

"But good looking?" Samantha pressed for information about the strange man who had unnerved her best friend.

Joss tried to remember what the cop looked like. "I...guess. I wasn't paying much mind to his looks as he was putting a damper on my already horrible day." She thought for a moment. "But he did have nice eyes," she complimented.

Samantha was intrigued. "Oh?"

"They were blue...no, not blue," Joss corrected. "Kind of a bunch of colours, but mostly blue. And sad." Joss forked the noodles into her mouth and chewed. "So sad."

"So, you want to see him again?"

Joss swallowed quickly. "No. Not unless I plan on getting another parking ticket – which I don't. I never want to see him again."

"Good," Samantha smiled. "Because Lionel and I were talking last night, and we agreed that you need to go out on a date."

"Oh, Sam..." Joss closed her eyes and prayed for patience and guidance.

"He has a friend who has been out of the game about as long as you have, and he thinks you'd be perfect together," Samantha explained the rational behind the decision.

Joss shot Samantha a wary look. "What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing. He's good looking – a little shy and quiet, but a good guy."

"Sure."

Samantha gave a little laugh. "What does that mean?"

"He's probably about five feet tall, plain as can be, and tries to tell jokes, but when he does, he tells the punchlines first. And he probably likes to do the 'short man dance'," Joss listed off the negative attributes one by one.

"One incident in college, on the dance floor, and you hold it against every short guy for eternity," Samantha replied with a frustrated sigh.

"Well, you should have been in my shoes." Joss shook her head. "Look, Sam, I know you and Lionel mean well, but..."

"One date. Two hours. That's all I'm asking. If you don't like him, I'll never ask you again." Samantha crossed her heart. "I promise."

"Okay. Okay," Joss conceded defeat. "I'll do it. Will he be at the party?"

"I think so. Lionel is trying to talk him into it. Seems he has the same bad habit of dragging his heels as you do."

Joss smiled at the comparison. "I think I like him already. Even if he might be a Danny DeVito clone," she quipped and brought the water goblet to her lips.

Samantha covered her friend's hand and gave a loving squeeze. Her grin was broad and bright as she declared, "How wonderful! You're going to love him! I promise!"  
*****

"I've never seen you so quiet," Lionel said between bites of the sub sandwich.

"Nothing to say," John replied simply. His eyes scanned the scenery. It was a habit, but it kept him from having to think about the things he didn't want to.

"I mean you're not exactly Chatty Kathy on a normal day, but you're unusually quiet."

"I'm okay, Lionel."

"Well, you act like you got something on your mind. Or someone," he amended with a sly grin. He held the bag up. "Want some?"

"I'm good."

Lionel extended his sandwich. "Bite?"

John shook his head. "Nah. That's okay."

Lionel peered closely at the man he thought he knew well. "Stop the presses! I know that look! You're in love!"

John jerked his head and gave his partner and friend a puzzled look. "I'm...what?!"

Lionel nearly burst with joy. "In love, my friend. Cupid shot his arrow and nailed you right in the middle of your comatose heart."

"Lionel, be quiet."

Lionel shook his head. "I can't. It finally happened. What's her name?"

"It's...uh..." John tried to think of a response, but his mind drew a blank.

Lionel looked confused. "Wait. You don't know her name?"

"I know her name – sort of."

"Sort of? What does _that_ mean?"

"I know her license plate number."

"Is this the woman you gave a parking ticket to last night?" Lionel didn't wait for an answer. "It _is_ the same woman. Well, aren't you something?"

"Can we drop it?"

"No. I'm having too much fun. So you're in love with a woman whose name you don't know..."

"Lionel."

"Although you got her digits. Sort of."

"Lionel, I'm going to shoot you."

Lionel shrugged. "You always say that."

"I mean it this time."

"You hate paperwork."

John turned his head and stared out of the windshield. He tried to focus on the people walking up and down the sidewalks and the way the clouds moved across the blue sky. Focus on anything but the irritating man sitting beside him.

"Why don't you look her license plate up in the database and find out her name?" Lionel suggested. John remained silent. "Ah. You're afraid."

"No, I'm not."

"Pfft. Yeah, you are. You're afraid that if you find out the name of TPH-011, you might find out that she really likes you, then you'll have to run and hide. Which you do very well," he added the accusation to emphasize his point.

John turned his head and glared. "I'm getting over my dislike of paperwork," he remarked coldly.

Lionel rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah. Then again, you might track her down; what are going to give her? A bouquet of milk cartons? Chances are that she'll return it in a way that would make you hate doing paperwork all over again."

"What did I do to deserve you as a partner?" John asked.

"I'm a blessing and curse, pal. Look, instead of getting all twisted up over this broad..."

"She's not a 'broad', Lionel."

Lionel looked offended at the rebuke. "Okay. Woman. Lady. Happy? Why don't you let me hook you up with a real woman?"

"You know one?"

"Actually, Sam does. It's her partner."

"Have I met her?"

Lionel thought for a moment. "No. I don't think so. But I'm sure you'll like her. She's beautiful and smart. And so what if she's sworn off relationships and love, she's doing a bang up job raising her kid and growing her business."

"What's wrong with her?" John inquired.

"What's wrong...?" Lionel repeated slowly. "Nothing."

"Sure."

"Oh, so I'm lying." Lionel wrapped the remainder of his sandwich in the paper and put it back in the plastic bag. "Now you're saying that a woman who is a single parent and runs her own business can't be beautiful and smart because she sworn off commitment?"

"No."

"Then, what? I can assure you that she isn't a humpbacked cyclops crazy woman who has a hundred cats residing at her home," Lionel joked.

"Remember the woman you hooked me up with last year?"

Lionel felt his cheeks grow warm. "Oh, yeah. Her."

"The one you said was the answer to my prayers?" John continued, taking delight in the way Lionel shifted uncomfortably. "She was anything but."

Lionel threw his hands up. "Okay. I'm sorry. I missed that one. But hey, we're all allowed one 51-50 in our lives." He looked at John who raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "It builds character."

"You should know."

"Sam's trying to talk her into coming to the party. If you come, then you can meet her there, have a couple of drinks, a meal...maybe have some clever conversation – on her part, of course."

"Thanks."

"Just trying to help. Maybe you can charm her with some of those life or death stories of heroism while you were in the Army and while you've been on the force."

"There hasn't been all that much."

"What about that dramatic kitten rescue for old lady Walters last week? You climbed that tree like a pro and caught little Fluffy just as she lost her grip. You were the hero of the week. Believe me, you tell her that one, she'll be putty in your hands."

"Really?"

Lionel jabbed his thumb at his chest. "Trust me on this: Chicks dig cute kitty rescue stories. It melts them _every_ time."

John mulled over the idea Lionel was proposing. In a weird way it was sounding better with each passing minute.

"And you never know," Lionel continued proudly, "she just might end up liking you."

"Okay," John answered simply.

"Okay? Really?" Lionel nearly jumped with excitement. "I gotta call Sam." He pulled out his phone.

" _Adam 4,"_ Dispatch came over the radio. _"Come in, Adam 4."_

John picked up the mic and pressed the button to talk. "This is Adam 4. Go ahead Dispatch."

" _Be advised of a vehicle blocking the entrance at 1504 Main Street. There is a report of a white male dancing on the roof of the car..."_

"That's not so bad," Lionel shrugged.

" _Naked."_

"Dispatch, did you say _naked_?" John asked slowly.

" _Not entirely. Reports say that he's wearing a Santa hat and singing Christmas carols."_

"10-4. We're on our way."

" _Roger, Adam 4. Will you be requiring assistance?"_

"Request to have an ambulance on stand by."

" _10-4. Dispatch out."_

John replaced the mic. Then he put the car in drive and hit the gas pedal. "Wonder if I can use this one to 'melt' her," he muttered tongue in cheek.

"Why do I have a feeling I'm never going to be able to listen to 'Jingle Bells' the same way again?" Lionel asked rhetorically as the car sped to the scene.


	5. Chapter 5

_I know you're all impatient for Joss and John to meet, but there ARE other events that need to be addressed before our favourite couple comes face to face. Kind of ruins it if they just suddenly jump from Thursday to Saturday night._

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

Joss guided the car down the road. The trip to the mall had been uneventful, and now she was taking Taylor home so she could get ready for the party. After standing on her feet for nearly two hours, she wondered if it was too late to call and back out.

 _"The Little Drummer Boy"_ came over the radio. Reaching over, she turned the station to a contemporary station.

"What did you do that for?" Taylor asked as the familiar sounds of a pop star filled the interior of the car.

"I heard it seven times today; that's enough for any one. So, what did you ask him?" she asked trying to make conversation.

"It's personal, Mom."

"Hmmm. Personal. Was it a dog?" she took a wild guess.

"Like you'd let me have one."

"A million dollars?"

"Not even warm, Mom. Just call it quits," Taylor kindly advised with a grin. "You'll never guess."

"One more try. A new car."

"I can't drive. And before you ask, I already have a skateboard, bike, video games, computer, best friend, and the coolest mom on earth," he listed one by one.

Joss blinked quickly. "You're so sweet, T."

"But I'm still not telling you what I'm asking for," he replied. He turned his head to look at the scenery. "Do you think it will snow for Christmas?"

"You know, we stood in line for nearly two hours," Joss pointed out. "Aren't you...thirsty? Hungry?"

Taylor shifted his weight from one foot to another. "No."

Joss tried something else. "How about ice cream?"

"Not gonna work, Mom."

"At least I tried."

"You should have been a cop," he praised. "You're pretty good on the interrogation."

"Aw. That's the sweetest thing ever said to me."

" _Pretty good_. Not the best."

"Tell me again how old you are?" Joss wondered. She slowed the car to a stop for the red light.

Taylor rolled his eyes. "I'm ten, Mom. You know that."

"I just wonder."

"You raised me good."

"Right."

"See? I'm still ten."

"Smart Aleck," she said and wrinkled her nose. Then she chuckled.

"What's wrong?" Taylor asked.

"I was just thinking about the time I took you to see Santa for the first time." Joss smiled as she recalled the memory. "You were just barely one, and your dad and I thought it would be great to have you sit on the jolly man's lap and take a picture for the Christmas card."

"You mean that one on the mantle?"

"That one," Joss confirmed. "So, we get here in what we thought was early, but it seemed a million people had the same idea. Because we thought we'd be in and out, we barely packed anything. And we figured since you were asleep, what could go wrong?"

"I didn't know this," Taylor said, but he was intrigued by the story of his first Christmas.

"Well...I haven't gotten to the good part."

The light turned green.

"We're four people away from Santa when you wake up. I reach into my purse – which doubled as a diaper bag – and I can't find your bottle. Now you're crying. And you know one word: Food. Not Mom. Not Dad. Food. Everyone is looking at us. I'm a first time parent, and I think I'm being so cool at this, but I'm not. I sing you a song, and I promise you...something. But it makes you stop crying. And now we're in front of the Big Guy; you take one look at him, and you just freeze in my arms."

"Well, he is kinda scary...sort of."

"I try sitting you on his lap, but you won't stay still. Santa hands you a peppermint stick, and you stick it in _his_ mouth. Everyone laughs. Finally I sit down on Santa's lap – which I don't think he appreciated. And so you're on my lap, and I'm on Santa's lap, and you have a peppermint stick in your mouth. And your dad snaps the picture."

"Wow."

"Then I finally get you to sit on his lap long enough to take one more picture. As I go to lift you up, Santa looks at me and then down at his thigh. And then he points to your bottom. Seems the extra absorbent diaper failed and it leaked on Santa."

Taylor looked mortified at the revelation. "I peed on Santa?!"

"I would call it a 'wardrobe malfunction'," Joss corrected.

"You know, Mom, I could live to be a hundred and I could still have lived my life without knowing that I peed on Santa. Thank you for sharing that with me."

"What did you expect after making me stand in line for two hours?" she laughed.

"I thought that's why you took the picture."

"That too."

"Are you going to the party tonight?" Taylor asked.

"How did you know about that?"

"Are you?"

"Maybe. I haven't decided."

"You should go," Taylor encouraged. "You need to get out."

"What do you know about that."

"Everything."

"Sure."

"Besides, you'll be all alone in the house, so you should go."

Joss looked at him. "Where are you going?"

"To Grandma's. We're going to build a gingerbread house for her church group."

"Are you sure?"

"What are you going to wear?"  
******

Joss stepped out of the bathroom. "How do I look?" she asked Taylor who was perched on her bed.

"You're beautiful, Mom."

"You're just saying that because I'm your mom," she deflected the compliment.

"No." He shook his head. "You're going to be the prettiest woman there."

"You don't think I'm overdressed?" she hesitated. It had been so long since she had dressed up for a party – much less a date – that she wasn't sure what was in fashion any more.

"I don't know," Taylor admitted honestly. "I'm not a girl."

"I hope you don't get your heart set on getting something great this year, because you're getting a lump of coal in your stocking," she warned.

"Good one, Mom." Taylor slid off the bed and walked over to give her a hug. "You still look great." The sound of a ring tone filled the room. "Uh oh, I'll bet that's Grandma wondering where I'm at."

"Answer it," Joss ordered, "Tell her that we're on our way. I'm going to slip my shoes on."

Taylor grabbed the phone off the night table. "Hi Grandma. Yeah, we're on our way..." he spoke as he departed the room.

Joss debated for a moment on the shoes she wanted before settling on the 3 inch heels. It might be a little uncomfortable, but if the guy was short, she would have the upper hand, she reasoned.

Standing in front of the mirror, she ran the lipstick over her lips. Then she fluffed her hair. It was too late to back out now. Closing her eyes, she said a prayer.

"It's now or never."

Walking over, she turned out the light on the wall and closed the door behind her.  
******

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, John fixed his tie and pulled on his suit jacket. Standing in front of the mirror, he straightened his tie, fiddled with his hair, even made a face. He ran his hand over his face.

He wondered if he could call and back out. Then he realized the promise he had made. No, he realized glumly, it was too late to turn back now.

One more look, then he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and walked out the front door.

"It's now or never," he said to the dog lying on the couch. "Wish me luck." A tail thumping on the cushions was the only response.

He closed it soundly behind him.


	6. Chapter 6

_**"The road of true love is filled with pot holes and speed bumps...and a detour or two."**_

 **Hope Is Born Again**

John stood over beside the long table covered with a variety of food and took a sip of his scotch and water. He kept telling himself that it was only a couple of hours out of his life, but as the Christmas music droned on, he wondered if maybe he could duck out. After all, he reasoned, he did his part by showing up.

"Hey, you made it!" Lionel greeted enthusiastically and gave his partner a firm pat on the back. He scanned the three piece suit. "You clean up good," he complimented.

"You've seen me in regular clothes, Lionel."

"This is the first time I've seen you dressed up for a Christmas party," Lionel corrected. "Usually you take someone's shift so you can duck out of celebrations."

"I'm helping my fellow man."

"And we thank you. But now you're here. Sam's going to be glad you made it."

"Where is she?" John looked around for the hostess.

"Waiting for Joss."

John raised his eyebrows. "Joss?"

"That's the name of your date, wise guy. Seems she's running a little late."

"Or maybe she backed out."

"No," Lionel denied. "She gave her word. And Joss is pretty good at keeping it. You won't find a better person to be on your side."

"What does she do?" John asked. His curiosity was slowly being peaked.

"Ah. Now you want to know a little bit about her. I'm sensing the life coming back to you, my friend."

"Maybe."

"She's a lawyer. Used to work for the courthouse with some big legal firm, but after her husband died, she took a break. She and Sam went to college together and when we moved back here, they decided to open their own law firm. They provide legal aid assistance to people who can't afford an attorney by the hour."

"Sounds commendable."

"She's good people. Doing a bang up job raising her son. He's a pistol just like his mom," Lionel praised.

"Kids..."

"Now don't get all excited, Wonderboy. He's ten, so it isn't as though you'll be on diaper duty. Besides, it doesn't matter how old he is; you don't get in with his mom, you don't get in at all."

"Sounds logical."

Lionel looked at the glass in his friend's hand. "Get you another shot of courage?"

John looked at the level. It was his first one, and if he nursed it, he would still be good to drive home at the end of the night.

"I'm good." He tried not to be obvious as he stared at the door. "Wait!" he called to Lionel who was walking away. "Maybe one more."

"On its way."

John turned his attention to the tree.

At that same moment, Joss walked up to the wide porch and stomped her feet to remove the bits of snow that clung to her boots. Pulling them off, she placed them next to the door to dry, then reached down to slip her heels on. Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand to knock. At that same moment, the door swung open.

"Joss! You made it!" Samantha greeted happily. "Come in! Come in!" She escorted Joss into the foyer. "Here, let me take your coat. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Apple cider?"

"Sure." Samantha hung the coat in the closet. "Go ahead and make yourself at home," she invited. "I'll be back in a minute."

Drawn to the large room filled with people, Joss looked around and decided to take a place in the corner. She wasn't about to put herself out there until she had sized everyone up.

As she looked around, she caught something out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she saw a tall man with dark hair standing on the far side of the room. Since he had his back to her, she was unable to see what he looked like, but if his suit was any statement, he definitely had impeccable taste in clothes. That was more than a plus in her book.

Just as he began to turn around, a couple walked over and blocked her view.

"Ugh!"

"What's wrong?" Samantha appeared out of nowhere to hand Joss a glass of the requested apple cider.

"Nothing." Joss sipped. "Okay, I lied. I saw this guy standing over there," she nodded with her head in said direction, "and my view got blocked."

Samantha was intrigued. "Oh? What does he look like?"

"I don't know. He's tall, dark hair, and a nice suit. Haven't seen his face, though."

Samantha stood on tip-toe to scan the area. "Oh!" she breathed. "That's John. Your date."

Joss smiled. "I might have to forgive you for pushing me into this."

"I'll have to call him over." Raising her hand, she called out: "John!" She looked at Joss. "Here he comes."

"How do I look?" Joss asked. She couldn't believe how nervous she was now that the moment had arrived.

"Beautiful. What's that?" She nodded at the gift bag in Joss' hands.

"Just a little gift I picked up on the way over. Thought it might help break the ice."

"Hey Sam," John greeted.

"Hi John. I want you to meet Joss Carter." She turned to her friend. "Joss, I want you to meet John Reese."

Joss turned around. Then she froze as her eyes widened.

"You!" she whispered.

"You're Joss?"

Samantha nervously look from John to Joss, and back. "You two know each other?" she asked while trying to maintain the peace.

"He's the cop who wrote me the ticket," Joss seethed. "And caused me to drop my milk."

"That was _you_?"

John looked uncomfortable. "It was an accident. I did offer to pay for a new one."

"Maybe if you hadn't written me the ticket, I wouldn't have dropped the milk, then you wouldn't have had to offer to buy me a new one," she returned.

"The meter was expired."

"The meter said it had twenty minutes."

"The law is the law."

"I know the law, pal," Joss stated. "I do it for a living."

"Does anyone want any refills?" Samantha jumped in to help cool things down. "Joss, let me show you the new-"

"Then you would know that you were in violation." John looked down at Joss' hands. "What's that?"

"Your Christmas Present. My mother always said not to show up for a date empty handed." Joss thrust the bag at John. "I hope you like a rose`."

John took the bag and pulled the bottle out. "Good year. You have great taste," he complimented. "I didn't get you anything."

"Yeah, you did," she contradicted. "You gave me a parking ticket."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't give me sixty dollars."

"I'll give you the money."

Joss looked insulted. "No, thanks. I have the money."

"Joss..." Samantha tried to put herself between the warring parties.

Joss turned toward her friend. "I'm sorry, Sam, but I have to go."

"You just got here," she pleaded taking Joss' hand in hers. "Besides, you promised me two hours."

Joss shook her head. "I want to, but I can't. I just remembered that I was supposed to make a gingerbread house with Taylor. Give my apologies to Lionel." She turned on her heel and walked away.

Speechless, John and Samantha looked at one another. Both waited for the someone to speak.

Oblivious to what happened, Lionel sauntered up to the pair. In his hands he carried a small plate filled with a variety of foods. Popping a grape in his mouth, he looked around and asked, "What did I miss?"

With her hands on her hips, Samantha looked at him. "Lionel Fusco, you have some explaining to do."  
********

"How was I supposed to know that Joss was the woman John gave a ticket to?" Lionel pleaded in self-defense.

"Oh? It never crossed your mind?" Samantha crossed her arms over her breasts and shot him a look that could kill. All around them the catering staff were cleaning up the remnants of the party.

"Look, Sam, I ducked into the store for five minutes. I saw the car by the meter, and I made a joke about the expiration. I never thought John would actually write the ticket. And I didn't know that it was Joss' car."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. By the time I got outside, everything was over and done, and she had driven off. I told him to look her up, but he told me to mind my own business."

Samantha gave him a look of disbelief. "You didn't push him?"

"I didn't see the need to cry over spilled milk," Lionel said with a grin. "And for the record, you could have told me that Joss got a parking ticket. Maybe I could have put two and two together and saved us this heartache."

"This isn't the first parking ticket Joss has gotten, or maybe I would have said something. And if you want to put two and two together..." She left the sentence hanging as she turned and hurried up the stairs. For a long minute Lionel thought he had been abandoned, but he decided to use that time figuring out how to plead his case.

Footsteps on the stairs made him look up. Blinking twice, he realized that in Samantha's arms she carried a pillow and blanket.

"Put these two together and figure out where you're sleeping tonight." She brushed a lock of hair from her face. "Good night, Lionel. I have to finish cleaning up." Without another word, she left him standing alone in the middle of the foyer.

Out of politeness, the catering staff looked at Lionel with a mixture of curiosity and sympathy, then went back to their task.

Squeezing the pillow, Lionel looked toward the family room and the couch that had his name on it. "Well, this is another fine mess you got yourself into, Lionel."


	7. Chapter 7

_As long as the characters want to talk to me, I will keep writing. Thank you for all the feedback!_

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

John tossed and turned, rolled to the right, tried to find the comfortable spot in the middle, but nothing seemed to help him sleep. Despite the exhaustion he was feeling, it was the nagging in the back of his mind that was keeping him awake.

He replayed the meeting with Joss over and over in his mind until he couldn't think straight. He tried to see it from her point of view, but he still came to the conclusion that he was correct, and he would stand by it.

 _She did give you a gift,_ the tiny voice in his head taunted, a _nd you gave her a ticket in return._

Tossing the covers to the side, John stood up. He looked at the clock. 3 a.m. God, he needed a drink. Maybe he could dive into the bottle of rose`since he did have the remainder of the weekend off. Shuffling to the kitchen, he didn't bother to turn on a light as he made his way over to the refrigerator. As he opened the door, the light from inside lit up the counter area.

His eye caught the piece of paper. Replacing the bottle of wine on the shelf, he picked up the paper and read the bold, black lettering on the outside:

 **SANTA CLAUS  
NORTH POLE**

"How did this get here?" he asked rhetorically. He could have sworn he had dropped the envelope in the mailbox on Thursday at the end of his shift, so how did it end up on his kitchen counter? Ugh. It was too early in the morning to analyze the mysteries of the unknown. Still, he was drawn to what could be contained inside.

Debating for half a second the legality of opening mail that wasn't his, John ripped off the flap and pulled out the notebook piece of paper. He admired the precise penmanship of the author as he read the request.

Three times his eyes scanned the words to make sure he had read them correctly. Yeah, he concluded, he had read them correctly. A little boy who wanted a dad for Christmas. The logical part of him scoffed at the innocence of the child who had tossed caution to the wind and tried to make a gamble on something would never happen. It was going to suck when he found out that Santa Claus was nothing but a myth.

As he went to fold the paper, his eyes rested on the signature: Taylor Carter.

"Taylor Carter?" he said and wondered where he had heard that name. "Taylor...Carter..." Then it hit him. "Joss Carter's son?!"

Standing in the kitchen bathed by the bulb from inside the refrigerator, John tried to make sense of what was happening and why. As he mulled it over and tried to put the pieces together, he was no closer to an answer than before opening the letter. Even if he didn't completely fulfill the request, he was sure he could provide the young boy with a reliable male influence.

John took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She would probably kill him – and have Samantha help her dispose of his body - and he would probably be burned in effigy, but that was a risk he was willing to take. Sometimes there were things bigger than pride; he was holding it in his hand. A kid needed his help.

Closing the fridge, he started to form a plan as he walked back to the bedroom for a couple hours of sleep.  
******

With the same come-what-may courage he felt when he shimmied up the tree to rescue a kitten caught in the highest branch, John walked up the pathway to the front door of the Carter Residence. Clicking his tongue twice he commanded the dog to sit and stay. Then he rang the bell.

Waiting patiently, he wondered if anyone was home. After all it was Sunday and most people were at church, he reasoned. Maybe he could come back later. He started to turn away, but before he could fathom his action, he raised his finger and pressed the bell again.

"Okay! Okay!" a female voice called from inside. "I'm coming! You can stop ringing the bell!" Footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor, then the tumbler was turned and the code was entered in what John assumed was the security keypad. A second later the door was opened.

Nearly swallowing his tongue, John quickly pulled himself together. "Hi Joss," he greeted with a warm smile.

Her hair wrapped in a towel, Joss stood on the other side of the clear glass screen door clad in a pink robe. It took a minute for her to register the person standing in front of her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked less than enthusiastically.

"Does Taylor Carter live here?"

Joss nodded slowly. "Yes, he does." She crossed her arms over her chest and took a stance that put John on notice. "May I ask what you want with my son?"

"I'm his 'Big Brother," John replied simply.

"You're his _what_?"

"Big Brother. You know: 'Big Brothers/Big Sisters'. I'm here to take him to a game – if he wants to go," John added the opt out clause to appease Joss.

"What makes you think I'll let you take him?" Joss' brown eyes held his blue ones without blinking.

"I respect that. I have it on good authority that Taylor needs to get out more."

Joss' eyes narrowed. "Where did you hear that?"

"A little elf told me. May I talk to him? Please?"

Debating her response, Joss turned around and called out: "Taylor! You have a visitor!"

The sound of feet stomping across the floor could be heard from where John stood. Hair wild, t-shirt half-tucked into his sweat pants, feet bare, Taylor appeared beside his mother.

"Hi Taylor," John greeted.

Taylor thought for a moment before grinning broadly. "I know you. You're Officer Reese. You came to our class a couple of months ago and brought your dog Bear."

In response to hearing his name, Bear barked his hello.

"Officer Reese said he's your Big Brother," Joss relayed the information. "Is that true?"

"I signed up for it back when school started," Taylor sheepishly admitted, "but I never heard anything. So, I didn't tell you."

"Taylor..." Joss reproved.

"Sorry, Mom, but this is so cool! He's been in the Navy and went over to Iraq and Afghanistan, and he could have worked for the CIA, but he decided to become a police officer," Taylor quickly listed John's biography.

"It's not half as exciting as Taylor is making it out to be," John tried to downplay the praise.

"Mom, can I pet Bear?" Taylor asked.

"May I, Taylor."

"May I please pet Bear?"

"Only if Officer Reese says its okay."

"Please?"

"Sure," John invited.

Hesitant, Joss slowly unlocked the door and opened it so Taylor could step out on to the porch. Usually trained to obey orders, Bear began whining and wiggling as Taylor came close.

"Hi Bear." Taylor knelt down and was immediately treated to doggy kisses. Giggling out loud, Taylor begged for mercy until John gave the command for Bear to heel.

"Danish?" Joss asked.

"You speak it?"

"A little. My late husband was a dog trainer."

"Oh." John turned his attention to his ten year old fan. "Taylor, I read on your application that you like to watch basketball and baseball? Is that true?"

Taylor's eyes brightened at the mention of the sports. "Do I?! I love them!"

"Well, it just so happens that I have a couple of tickets to the basketball game this afternoon. I'm inviting you...if your mother says it's alright."

Slowly but surely with each passing moment, Joss was losing her resolve to stay angry at the man who had put a damper on her already horrible week.

"Mom? _Pleeeeeeeaaaase!"_ Taylor begged without trying to sound as though he wasn't begging.

"I don't know..."

"I have an extra ticket, if you want to go," John offered with what he hoped was his most charming of smiles. "I know it doesn't equal the bottle of wine you got me, but it's better than nothing."

Joss looked at the two hopeful faces and totally felt her resolve crumple. "Taylor hasn't had lunch yet," she threw out a reason why to say no.

"We'll stop and get something on the way. My treat," John said.

"Okay. Give us few minutes to get ready. Would you like to come in?" Joss invited with a small smile.

"Bear..."

"As long as he stays off my furniture and doesn't chase the cat, he's welcome, too." Joss held the door open so humans and canine could come in. As John walked by, Joss unconsciously sniffed the air and felt her knees go weak. Holding on to the door, she tried to take a deep breath.

"Taylor," she said in a voice that belied her true composure. "Go get ready. Brush your teeth."

"Thanks, Mom! You're the best!" His feet barely touched the floor as Taylor ran to get ready.

"Would you like some coffee? Juice?" she offered politely.

John's eyes sparkled with mischief as he replied, "Got any milk?"

Joss ducked her head as heat burned her cheeks. "Have a seat, John. We'll be ready in a few minutes."

"No rush, Joss. Take your time."

Joss turned and started toward the hallway. Stopping at the entryway, she half turned to face John. "Thank you," she said in a voice choked with tears.

John nodded. "You're welcome."

He watched until she disappeared. _She's wearing pink bunny slippers,_ he said to himself with a smile.


	8. Chapter 8

_I decided to take a page from a personal event in one of my family's life when after her husband died in a car accident, her 2 year old son refused to watch "E.T." because he thought the little alien had come down and taken his daddy away in his spaceship. And I thought, why not use it to show how Taylor might have believed that his dad went to help Santa?_

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

While John held the screen door open with his foot, Joss unlocked the front door. As she swung it open, she stood off to the side to let John walk inside first. In his arms he carried a sleeping Taylor.

"Where should I put him?" John whispered.

"His room. I'll show you where it is." Quickly Joss turned off the alarm and closed the door. "Follow me."

Leading the way down the hallway, she turned on the small lamp on the night table, then she pulled back the covers. John placed Taylor gently on the bed.

"Take off his shoes," Joss whispered the directive. Without a word, John unlaced the sneakers and pulled them off. He placed them on the floor.

"What about his clothes?"

"He can sleep in them tonight." Joss pulled the covers up, kissed Taylor's cheek, then turned out the light. Crooking her finger, she motioned for John to follow her. She closed the door behind her.

Awkwardly they stood in the narrow space trying to think of something to say.

"I should go," John proposed, although he was tempted to stay. Very tempted.

"Would you like some coffee?" Joss offered quickly. For some reason she couldn't explain, she wanted him to stay. The day had been nearly perfect, she didn't want it to end.

John smiled at the offer and tried not to jump at the chance to spend more time with her. "I'd love some. Let me get Bear out of the car, and I'll be back."

As his long strides carried him away, Joss found herself watching him with something she couldn't explain. Shaking her head, she made her way to the kitchen to prepare the drinks.

A few minutes later the sound of Bear's nails on the hardwood floor echoed throughout the house. He led the way to the kitchen as his nose sniffed out the cookies Joss had placed on the table.

"Hi Bear," Joss greeted while she poured the coffee. He whined a response. "Do you want a treat? Can he have one?" she asked John.

Taking off his heavy coat, John hung it on the hook beside the back door. "What do you have?"

"Sugar wafers, vanilla wafers, chocolate chip."

"Two vanilla wafers," John conceded. He watched as Bear took the cookies from Joss' hand, then looked at him. "Two. No more."

Bear hung his head sadly and gave a whimper.

"Do you want to go lay with Taylor?" John suggested an alternative. Bear wagged his tail enthusiastically. "Come on," he ordered. A minute later John reappeared sans Bear.

"Everyone happy?" Joss asked. She took the creamer out of the fridge and placed it on the table.

"I think so. The cat seemed unfazed by the dog," John observed with a shake of his head.

"Shaw likes what she likes. As long as Bear behaves, so will she. Have a seat," she offered with her hand toward the chairs sitting around the kitchen table. She waited for John to sit before placing the mugs down.

Quietly they added the various condiments to the scalding liquid. Sipping slowly, each waited for the other to speak first.

"Joss..."

"John..."

"You go first," John invited.

Shyly Joss ducked her head. "I just want to thank you for taking time out of your day to take Taylor and me to the game."

"it was something I wanted to do."

"I know that you probably had other things you wanted to do," she rambled as though she hadn't heard him.

"Joss," John interrupted. "I had nothing else I had to do today."

"Are you sure?" She wasn't calling him a liar, but experience had taught her that no one was so altruistic that they would sacrifice their time for her son's happiness.

"I never do anything I don't want to," he replied firmly enough to make his point.

The fight slowly went out of her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Joss felt the need to do something with her hands, so she added a little more creamer to her coffee and stirred.

"It seems a bit more than a coincidence that Taylor has you for a Big Brother," she finally said. It had nagged a little in the back of her mind, and now was the perfect time to find out his intentions regarding her son.

"I call it fate. To be honest, I didn't know about it either. I got a call this morning from the director asking if I could fill a last minute request that he found on his desk yesterday," John revealed everything that had transpired from the moment his phone rang until he arrived at the house.

"Are you saying that you took this on to appease your conscience?" she asked with incredulity.

"No. I didn't even know who the little boy was until I received the text." John pulled out his phone and pulled up the correspondence. He turned the phone around so Joss could see it. Her eyes scanned the form twice.

"I believe you," she conceded. Slowly her resolve to keep her supposed nemesis at arms length was wavering. And the cologne he was wearing wasn't helping matters, either.

"I know it must have been quite a shock to see me on your doorstep."

"Heh. I wasn't thrilled, that's for sure," she confirmed her initial reaction. "I thought you might be stalking me."

"I figured with the way you left the party, chasing after you would be detrimental to my health." John took a cookie from the plate and dipped it in his coffee. "I could find myself as the angel atop your tree," he joked.

Joss laughed at the suggestion. "No. Besides, I don't have a tree, so you're safe."

"No time?"

"Huh? What do you mean?" she asked.

"To get a tree."

Joss shrugged. "I don't see the need to have one."

"Too many memories," John said quietly.

"How long for you?"

"Five years. You?"

"Seven this Christmas," Joss answered.

"How did he die? If you don't mind me asking," John inquired carefully.

"He was coming home for Christmas from a two-week training event when his car went over the side of mountain pass." Her voice was even as Joss relayed the story, but John's well tuned ears could hear the sadness and grief she tried to conceal.

"Black ice?"

Joss nodded. "They concluded that he must have hit it and tried to over-correct. And when he did..." She pressed the back of her hand to her nose to stop the tingling that always warned her that the tears were about to flow. "The police said that he died on impact and probably never felt a thing."

"That must have been hard for you," John sympathized and laid his hand over hers. He didn't squeeze or try to hold her hand, he wanted her to draw from his strength.

"Taylor was too young to understand what had happened, and I tried to explain it to him, but at three years old..." Her voice trailed off. "He thought his daddy went to the North Pole to help Santa," Joss gave a soft laugh. "And that was the last time we had a tree." Her hand shook ever so slightly as she took a cookie, broke it in half before dipping it in her coffee. She nibbled off the soggy part.

"I figured since my mother has one, we didn't need to get one," Joss continued reasonably. "Taylor's never asked, and I never brought it up. It seems to be working. What about you? What's your story?"

John squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. "I was engaged. She died."

Joss tried to think of a way of responding that wouldn't sound condescending. "I'm sorry. What happened to -"

"Would it be alright if I take Taylor to the park tomorrow to shoot some hoops with him?" John interrupted Joss' inquiry.

Surprised by the rudeness, Joss didn't need to be told twice that any inquiry to John's fiancee was off limits.

"Sure. Don't you have to work, though?" she asked.

"We're on rotating schedules. One week days, one week evenings, one week mids, one week off. This is my mid, so I don't have to be to work until 2300," he told her. "Gives me enough time to spend with Taylor and get some sleep."

"I don't know," Joss hesitated. "I don't want you to feel obligated to spend every waking moment with Taylor. What you did today was above and beyond the call of duty."

"Like I said, it's no trouble. Besides, Taylor needs to get out and get some fresh air every now and then."

"Only if you're sure."

"He's a nice kid, and Bear really likes him."

"He is crazy about your dog, too," Joss pointed out. "Top off your cup?"

"I'm good," he declined the offer. "It's getting late," he observed. "I should let you get some sleep."

"It has been a long day," she observed with a huge yawn. "I don't know how to pay you back."

"Just say thank you."

"Thank you, John."

"You're welcome, Joss." John stood up and started to take his mug to the sink. Joss jumped up.

"I'll do that. You get Bear while I clean up," Joss directed. She put the mugs in the dishwasher and closed the door. There was no need to turn it on for a couple of items.

Not hearing anything, she headed toward the living room and nearly jumped out of her skin when she realized John was standing beside the fireplace. Stock still, he seemed to be drinking in the numerous pictures of her and Taylor taken over the years. As though drawn to it by some invisible force, John picked up the photo of Taylor's first Christmas.

"He peed on Santa while this was being taken," Joss informed softly.

John seemed to have sensed that she was behind him, for he didn't appear startled when she spoke. "How old?"

"About ten months. That's when he discovered he likes peppermint sticks."

"He's cute. So were you," John said as an afterthought.

"No, I wasn't; I was still losing baby weight," Joss argued. She hadn't really been looking her best because she hadn't planned on getting her picture taken. "I wasn't even wearing any make-up."

"Nothing wrong with natural beauty," he complimented. He turned to look at Joss. "Nothing wrong at all."

"What time will you be over to pick up Taylor?" she murmured, her eyes staying focused on the rug so she didn't have to look at him.

"I'll pick him up from school and take him for dinner," John answered. "If that's alright with you."

"I may have to work late because we have a court date coming up. So that works out for all of us."

"Okay."

Joss walked over to the door and turned the knob. "I'll let him know in the morning." When John walked up to where she stood, she opened the door. Bear bounced over and sat down.

"I think he likes you."

"He's a good dog," Joss praised and rubbed Bear's head. "Take care, John."

"You too, Joss."

"Drive safe."

"I will." Standing in the doorway, John and Joss waited for something – anything to happen. Then a sound broke the moment. So slight, it sounded like a shuffle of feet. But the moment was gone.

"I should go. Goodnight Joss." John opened the screen door and let Bear run outside.

"Goodnight John." Despite the cold wind blowing, Joss stood on the porch and watched as John made his way down the pathway to his car. She watched as he let Bear get inside and then buckled him in. Then to her surprise, John turned around and waved to her. She waved back. Moments later the car started and pulled away.

Shivering, she went back into the house and closed the door. Setting the alarm, she checked over everything before turning out the lights. Then the noise happened again.

Curious, she tiptoed down the hallway to Taylor's room. Easing the door open, she peeked inside, but all she found was Taylor fast asleep. She chalked it up to being overly tired. She would think about it in the morning, she decided before walking to her room and closing the door quietly behind her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hope Is Born Again**

* * *

Standing at the free-throw line, Taylor lined his shot. With everything he had, he threw the ball. It slammed against the backboard and bounced back. John caught it with one hand.

"Try again," he said and threw the ball at Taylor.

"I can't." Taylor threw it back.

"Sure you can," John encouraged. "Just aim and shoot. Like this." Taking aim, John bounced the ball twice on the asphalt, then bent his knees before he jumped up and released the ball. Taylor watched in awe as the ball gracefully arched in the air before it fell into the hoop and swished in the net.

"Wow!"

John jogged over to get the ball. "Try it. Just like you saw me." He tossed the ball. "You can do it."

Taylor tried again, but the ball bounced off the rim.

"See? I told you I couldn't do it." He kicked the tiny pebble with his foot.

John stepped over to the line. "You're trying too hard. Come here. Take the ball."

"I can't. I'm too short."

"Height has nothing to do with it. It's all up here," John pointed to his head. "John Stockton is six feet tall and he held his own against the taller players. He wasn't complaining."

Taylor's only response was to drop his shoulders and sigh loudly.

"Come on, Taylor; try it again. Show yourself you can do it."

"Okay." Taylor took his place and aimed.

"Bend your knees, like this." John showed him. "Now use your elbows as springs when you throw and release. Ready? On three. One. Two. Three."

Taylor did as he was told, then watched in amazement as the ball hooked to fall neatly into the net. "I did it!" he exclaimed. "I did it!"

John raised his hand. "Right here, pal. That was a great shot," he praised.

"Wait until I tell Mom; she's going to be so excited. Can I try again?"

Bear came over and barked his form of congratulations.

John looked at his watch. It was a little past five and the sun was starting to go down. Taylor still had homework to do.

"It's getting late."

"Just one more. Please?" Taylor begged.

John gave in. "One more." He watched Taylor take his place. "Tell you what: If you sink the ball, I buy; you get nothing but rim, you pay. Deal?"

"Uh... Sure." A little nervous at the prospect of having to pay for dinner, Taylor could almost feel his knees shaking. Taking a deep breath, he tried to focus. Counting silently to himself, he released on three. Time seemed to stand still as he waited for the worst. He nearly jumped for joy as the ball went in.

"YES!"

"Way to go, Taylor." John patted his back in a congratulatory way. "Looks like I'm buying. Unless you want to go two out of three."

Taylor laughed. "That was two out of three."

"Got me on that one. What do you want to eat?"

"Chili burgers?" Taylor offered his choice of meals before his stomach growled loudly.

John nodded. "I know a great place. Get your bag."  
*******

"These are great," Taylor complimented as he took a bite. "Even Mom's aren't this good. But don't tell her that," he added quickly.

John winked. "Your secret is safe with me."

Eating quietly, John and Taylor took pleasure in the meal and the ambiance of the hole in the wall restaurant.

John noticed how quickly Taylor cleaned his plate. "Want the rest of my fries?" he offered.

"Sure!" Taylor quickly polished off the potatoes. "That was good."

"You're welcome."

"So, how long have you been a big brother?" Taylor asked point blank.

"You're my first," John admitted.

"You're pretty good at it."

"Thanks. I think."

"Nah. You taught me how to shoot a basket, then you bought me dinner. That's more than a couple of guys have done," Taylor revealed with a dismissive shrug.

John hesitated before asking, "You've had other big brothers?"

"Not really. Just a couple of guys who were passing thru my mom's life. One guy – his name was Cal Beecher – he took me to this arbor something or other -"

"Arboretum?" John supplied.

"Yeah, that. It was okay, but I don't like gardens. Then he kept saying how this one flower smelled just like my mom. I wanted to puke," Taylor confessed. "Then he was always trying to kiss her and stuff."

"Oh."

"He wanted to be my dad, and I got one. He's just in heaven."

"Did you like Cal?"

Taylor thought for a moment. "He had a really fast car and he had a lot of money, but he never asked me what I wanted to do. Maybe I was eight years old, but I know what I like."

"Baseball and basketball."

"Yep."

"How about some ice cream?" John changed the subject.

Taylor bit his lip. "Can I get a sundae?"

"May I," John corrected.

" _May I_ get a sundae?"

"Yes, you may." John reached into his pocket and pulled out a few bills. "Do you want to go get them?"

Taylor was surprised by the request. "Are you sure?"

"Why not? Make sure you get extra nuts on mine."

Taylor took the money. "You are the coolest."

John nodded in agreement. "So are you, Taylor."

"I'll be right back."  
*****

Kicking back, Joss settled on to the couch with the sappy movie she decided to watch. The case she thought was going to take all night suddenly came together, so she and Sam had decided to call it a night and go home. And with Taylor gone for a little while, Joss had taken the free time to relax and wind down with a little take-out and a facial.

Curled up, her feet tucked under her, Joss got lost in the trite "boy meets girl/boy loses girl/boy wins girl right around Christmas" storyline.

Footsteps on the porch jarred her back to reality, but before she could run, Taylor walked thru the door. Following behind was John. Mortified at being seen as anything less than attractive, Joss tried to bury her nose in a magazine.

"Hi Mom!" Taylor greeted as he hurried into the living room. In his hands he carried a plastic container.

"Hey T," Joss responded in a voice that tried to appear cool and calm. Taylor pulled the magazine down and began to laugh. "What's so funny?"

"You look like Yoda!" he declared and laughed hard enough to almost drop the container.

"Very funny, T." Joss looked up and met John's eyes. "Hi John. How was your day? Did you two have fun?"

"We did," he confirmed. His eyes danced with mischief as he drank in her appearance. If it were possible, he managed to find her attractive despite the green clay covering her features.

"We brought you something, Mom," Taylor remembered as he stopped laughing. He handed the container to Joss. "It's a banana split."

Joss opened the lid. "You remembered the extra chocolate. You are forgiven for laughing at me," she said and leaned down to plant a kiss on Taylor's cheek.

"Ugh! Mom!" Taylor furiously rubbed his cheek. "Gross!"

Joss chuckled. "Go put on your pajamas and get ready for bed. Then, if you want, you can come out here and watch the rest of the movie with me."

"Okay." Taylor hurried to do as he was told.

"And I'm going to wash my face," Joss informed John. "I'll be back in a minute." She set her dessert down on the coffee table and walked quickly from the room. When she returned two minutes later, John was still standing where she had left him.

"Have a seat," she invited. "If you've got a minute."

"I got all the time in the world, Joss," John murmured. He sat down on the far end of the couch. "What are you watching?"

"Umm...'While You Were Sleeping'," she confessed sheepishly.

"Good movie."

Joss looked surprised. "You like it?"

"Yes, but not for the reasons you would think."

"Oh? Let me guess: The Sandra Bullock effect."

"And the fact that the maintenance guy chasing her is named Fusco," he continued.

Joss paused. "Wait a minute! The landlord's son's last name is Fusco?!" John nodded. "I have watched this movie a hundred times and...how did I miss it?" She laughed. "Now it just makes everything weird."

"Yeah, it does."

Joss reached over and picked up her dessert. "Thank you for getting this." With her other hand, she hit 'PLAY' on the remote to start the movie.

"Taylor's idea. He thought you might like a treat."

"Did you have fun?"

"I think we both learned something today," he revealed without going into detail. But it wouldn't have mattered because Joss was busy tucking away the ice cream and bananas. "Good?"

"Mmmm hmmm." She took another bite. "This is delicious." She held up her spoon. "Bite?"

John hesitated before taking the offering. "Thanks." He licked his lips and tried to focus on anything but Joss' perfume or the fact that she wasn't wearing those silly pink bunny slippers to cover her sexy feet. Reaching out, he touched her cheek.

Joss jumped at the contact. "Hey! What? What?" Her eyes flew to meet John's.

"Right there," John said. "You've got..." He touched the area. "...green stuff." He showed her.

"Oh." Joss tried to laugh off the moment. "Sorry. I thought..."

"Thought what, Joss?"

Joss shook her head. "Nothing. Nothing." To keep from talking, she quickly spooned the ice cream in at almost lightning speed. All the while she continued to keep her eyes on the movie that no longer kept her interest.

"That was good," she said. "Excuse me." She stood up and walked to the kitchen to place the dish in the sink. But she didn't want to head back. The funny, weird feeling in the pit of her stomach was something new, and she needed to take a moment to identify it. Maybe if she made some coffee then she could clear her head.

Measuring the grounds into the filter, she took the carafe out and put it under the tap to fill it, then poured it into the maker.

As it brewed, she tried to remember what she was supposed to do next. "Cup!" she said out loud. Turning on the ball of her foot, she opened the cupboard and reached for one of the ceramic mugs.

"Need some help?" a low baritone voice asked in her ear.

Jerking back in surprise, Joss lost her grip. The mug crashed to the floor and broke into dozens of pieces. Startled at the sound, Joss went to step back, then cried out in pain.

"OW!"

"Joss! What's wrong?" Concerned, John grabbed her arms to keep her from moving.

"I stepped on something," she gasped.

"Come here," John said and swung her into his arms. Joss could barely catch her breath as she found herself being held in John's strong embrace. A moment later she was sitting on the couch and John was holding her foot in his hands.

"Mom?" Taylor called out as he ran into the room. "What happened?"

"I cut myself; I'm okay," Joss assured him in a calm voice.

"Can you get me the First-Aid kit, Taylor?" John asked as he examined Joss' foot. He didn't hear the patter of feet on the floor as he tilted Joss' foot under the light.

"I don't see anything," he said.

"I feel it."

"Where? Here?" He touched a spot.

Joss felt her heart nearly beat out of her chest. "No."

"How about here?"

"N-no."

"Here?"

"Yes!" Joss said thru clenched teeth.

"Nothing..." John ran his finger over her sole and felt something sharp jab his skin. "There it is."

"I got the kit," Taylor announced breathlessly as he ran into the living room. "And a wash cloth. I ran it under hot water."

"Thanks." John moved the wet cloth over to remove any dirt. "Hand me the tweezers," he directed. Taylor took the metal prongs out. "Thank you, Taylor. Now hold still, Joss. This might hurt."

Joss jerked. "Ow!"

"Hold still. Almost got it." John made another attempt to extract the shard. "Got it!" He held it up for Joss to see. "Want to keep it?" he joked.

"No, thanks."

"Hand me some gauze and antiseptic." He waited for Taylor to open the packets. "Once I get this cleaned up, I'll put a band-aid on it." With confident hands, he completed the task. "There you go; good as new."

"Still hurts."

"It's going to."

"I need to get up and -" Joss pushed herself up.

"You need to rest," John ordered.

"I -"

John put his finger over her lips to stop her protest, and once more he swung her into his arms. "Where is your bedroom?"

"My...oh no! John! No!"

"It's over here," Taylor said. "Follow me." He led the way to the Master Bedroom and turned on the small lamp. Shaw, who was nestled in the middle of the bed, looked up in surprise and mewed.

"Get the cat, Taylor." With caring hands, John placed Joss on the mattress. "Comfortable?"

"Yes. I still have to clean up the kitchen."

"You need to rest and take the weight off your foot. That's an order."

Joss sighed dramatically. "Okay. Thanks, John."

"No problem. Good night."

"Good night."

"I'll be picking Taylor up tomorrow. Is that okay?" John asked.

"Sure."

Turning on his heel, John walked out of the room, Taylor following closely behind. Without a word, they cleaned up the mess. After putting away the broom and dustpan, John washed his hands. Taylor did the same.

"I guess you gotta go," Taylor said mournfully.

"Have to work. And you have to go to school in the morning," John answered. "But I'll be picking you up from school tomorrow."

"Shoot more hoops?"

"What ever you want to do."

"Okay."

Together they walked to the front door. "Take care of your mom," John ordered. "Lock the door -"

"And set the alarm," Taylor finished with a grin. "See you tomorrow."

"Good night Taylor."

"Good night Officer Reese."

Taylor watched as John walked down the step and across the yard to his car. Then he closed and locked the door. And turned out the lights.


	10. Chapter 10

_Thanks for all of the kind words._

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

The streets were quiet and a chill was in the air. Although the skies had threatened snow earlier, everything was clear. Just the right kind of night to do patrolling.

"Two weeks until Christmas and I still don't know what to get Sam," Lionel grumbled as he shoved his hands deep inside the pockets of his double fleeced lined coat.

"I thought you had that picked out already," John remarked as the pair walked the beat of the neighbourhood they knew so well.

"I had. Then I realized I have to get her something else."

"Sleeping on the couch again?"

Lionel stopped at looked at his partner with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. "How did you know?"

"You look as though you haven't slept in two days," John observed. "And you're grumpy."

"I'm not grumpy," Lionel contradicted. "I'm just...you try sleeping on a couch when you're used to a Sleep Number bed."

"What happened?"

"What happened? _What happened?!_ You should know! You and Joss are the reason I lost the right to adjust my mattress!" Lionel stated vehemently.

John mentally listed the things he could have done. "Oh. The party."

"Like I was supposed to know that the woman you gave the ticket to was Joss."

John looked contrite as he apologized. "Sorry."

"Pfft! Sorry. You need to be saying that to Sam." Despite having heavy gloves on his hands, Lionel rubbed them together. "Let's get a coffee," he invited.

"Am I paying?"

"You mean you weren't?"

"Lead the way, Lionel."

"So, what happened on Sunday? I thought we were going to the game? Then you call and say you can't make it?"

John scratched the back of his neck. "I took somebody else," he said slowly.

"Wait! You what?!" Lionel exclaimed. "I thought those were our tickets!"

"They were. It's just that I received a phone call that morning requesting that I fill in for a Big Brother position, and I had to think of something fast," John apologized.

"Big Brother? You?" Lionel scoffed. "For who?"

"Taylor Carter."

Lionel's hand paused on the handle of the cafe door. Turning slowly, he stared wide-eyed at John. "Taylor Carter? Joss Carter's son?"

"The same."

Lionel started to chuckle. "Well, if that don't beat all. How did Mom react to you showing up on her doorstep?"

"I took her too."

"Wait! You took Joss Carter to a basketball game?" Lionel sputtered in surprise. "You only had two tickets."

"It worked out."

"I won't ask how it went since you're still alive and kicking. So, you two are good?"

"I suppose. We went out to dinner after the game, and then we talked. And this afternoon I took Taylor to shoot some hoops," John revealed enough information – he hoped – to satisfy Lionel's curiosity. It didn't.

"When you say 'talk', is that talk, or _talk_?" Lionel inquired saucily.

John opened the door. "I'm going inside."

"No, really, talk to me," Lionel begged as he hurried inside the warm room. "You said you talked."

"Two large coffees," John placed his order with the older gentleman behind the counter. "And two donuts."

"Come on, Wonderboy, you have to give me the juicy details."

"That will be four dollars," the older man said as he handed over the to-go cups. He waited for John to hand him the bills, then handed back the change. "The donuts are at the end of the counter; help yourselves, officers."

"Thanks." John handed the cup over to Lionel and then headed to the wall with the pastries. Taking the tongs, he took two donuts from the stack.

"Why are you ignoring me?" Lionel asked.

"Why do you want to know about my private life?" John shot back.

"Probably because you've never had one...before this."

"And...?"

"The 411 will get me off the couch. It's your fault for not being able to play nice that I am where I am."

"We just talked. Satisfied?"

Lionel wrestled with himself over the news that nothing had happened. "No. Not really. But you like her, right?"

"I like her."

"Like, _really_ like her?" Lionel seemed hopeful at the prospect of a possible romance.

John seemed uncomfortable being put on the spot. "I'm not sure how I feel about her," he confessed honestly. "I like her and I like Taylor."

"Get some mistletoe."

John nearly choked on his coffee. "Mistle what?"

"Mistletoe."

"For what, Lionel?"

"To kiss her, Sherlock! Geez, do I have to do everything for you?" Lionel said with borderline exasperation.

John held up his free hand. "Whoa! Kiss her?! We're just friends."

"Sure you are. And I'm going to be on the cover of next month's GQ," Lionel replied with a sarcastic snort. "You like her – shoot, you pined over her for two days! And she must like you since she let you take her pride and joy out for a few hours – and trust me on this: She doesn't let _anyone_ take Taylor out _anywhere._ No matter the circumstances."

John digested the information. "That's interesting," he murmured. "Tell me, Lionel: What do you know about Cal Beecher?"

"Twenty-four karat Cal? What do you know about him?" he approached the topic cautiously.

"Taylor may have mentioned him in passing."

"He was a D.A. at that expensive law firm on the other side of town. Thought he was God's gift to women. A little too slick, in my opinion."

"He sounds...eccentric."

"For lack of a better word. He had the best of everything – cars, clothes, women - partly due to the trust fund his dad – a federal judge left him. So he used it to woo the women. Seems he decided to pursue the lonely legal-aid widow and make her his. I think it had more to do with his firm trying to swallow up Sam and Joss'."

"What happened?"

"Eh. One night he decided he was going to try and seduce said widow, and found himself lying flat on his back on the floor," Lionel chortled gleefully.

"Joss did that?"

"That's an understatement, buddy. She went totally ninja on him. Once he recovered, he high-tailed it out of her house and town." Lionel bit into his donut. "Last I heard, he was in the big city dating some up and coming defense attorney named Andrea Gutierrez. Guess they got a kid." He shrugged.

"So, she isn't looking?"

"You interested?"

"No," John denied. "I don't want to find myself lying on the floor counting her ceiling tiles."

"Ah. Self-preservation. Smart move. Try the mistletoe; take it slow."

"Take it slow," John repeated.

"In the meantime, I need to find a way off the couch."

Lifting the cup to his lips, John threw a wink at his partner. "Try some mistletoe."  
******

"Coffee's fresh and the donuts are dry," Samantha informed as Joss walked into the office.

"Thanks." Joss hung her coat on the tree and poured herself a cup of java.

"Someone is smiling this morning," Samantha observed with a grin. "Something happen that I need to know about?"

"Nothing much," Joss replied enigmatically. As she walked to her desk, she hobbled for a second before recovering. An action that was not lost on the other woman.

"Joss! What happened?"

"Small accident. I'll live." Joss sat down. "Where's the 'Warren' file?" she asked and searched the stack.

"Small accident? Does it involve a tall, dark, and gorgeous man?"

Joss ignored her. "I swear I put the file right here when I left last night." She continued the search.

"Come on, Joss. Talk to me."

"I have to find that file. I have to be at the courthouse at eleven." Joss opened and closed the drawers.

Samantha stood up, grabbed a file, then sauntered over to Joss. "You mean this file?" she asked coyly.

"Where was it?"

Samantha tapped it on her hand. "You asked me to check over your opening statement, remember?"

Joss touched her fingers to her forehead as if to jolt her memory. "Yeah, I did. May I have it, please?"

"After."

"After, what?"

"You tell me what happened to cause your limp." Samantha sat down on the corner of the desk. "Come on, Joss. One secret for one folder..."

"Your tactics for getting the truth out of the other parties isn't going to work on me." Joss held steadfast in her refusal to divulge all.

"Okay. Playing tough. Thought you might hold out." Standing up, Samantha walked over to her desk and pulled a large bag from the drawer. "That is why I have these."

Joss gulped. "Are those...?"

"Yes, they are. And they are all yours if you tell me what happened," Samantha purred.

The inner struggle went on for half a second. "Oh, for heaven's sake; hand them over!" Joss held out her hand impatiently. Once she had the bag, she tore it open and dove inside.

"Are you going to tell me?"

"John took Taylor out for basketball practice, then dinner, and when he brought Taylor home, I went to make a pot of coffee and the cup slipped from my hand."

"And that is when you stepped on it," Samantha supplied.

"Yes."

"And John just happened to be there when it happened. How convenient," Sam pointed out. "Where was he?"

"Sam..."

"I gave you the bag, Joss."

"He was standing behind me," she confessed. "And then I stepped on a shard, and he took care of it. Then he..." Joss shoved the treat in her mouth to cut off any further words.

"Then he, what?"

"Nothing," Joss said with her mouth full.

"Then he, what, Joss?" Samantha reached for the bag. Joss pulled it against her body protectively.

"He carried me and put me to bed. Satisfied?"

Samantha's mouth dropped open. "No he didn't?!"

"It was totally innocent. Taylor was there."

"Did you get a kiss good night?"

"No. But he did sweep up the mess and he made sure to tell Taylor to set the alarm after he left," Joss said casually.

"You like him."

"I-"

"You like him a lot."

"Sam..."

"And I think he likes you."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. There is still the matter of the parking ticket and the busted jug of milk," Joss retorted.

"I thought you forgave him."

"I did," Joss confirmed, "but I'm still out 64.25."

"He held your foot and didn't make a move on you. That sounds like he paid it back."

"Maybe."

Samantha looked surprised. "Maybe?! In my book that pays it back in tenfold. I think you need to get some mistletoe."

"Mistletoe? You mean to...kiss him?"

"No," Samantha replied sarcastically. "To play checkers. Yes, to kiss him."

"I think it's too soon."

"I think you're nuts. He's not Cal Beecher, you know, who's going to worm his way into your life and then try to take advantage of you, Joss. I think John genuinely likes you."

"Well, I think I genuinely like him too."

"You don't know how much that means to me...and Lionel."

"What's Lionel got to do with this?"

Samantha slid off the desk and slowly walked back to hers. "Well, it seems that after the spat at the party the other night, Lionel got relugated to the couch."

"Why?"

"Because..." Samantha tried to think of a reason, then gave up. "I don't know. I was angry. I thought maybe...I haven't been feeling myself the past few days." She grabbed the tissue from the box and held it to the corner of her eye.

Joss hurried over to give comfort. "It's okay, Sam."

"Just overwhelmed, I think. With the holidays and trying to get these cases finished up before Christmas...I don't know how you do it. The pressure and all."

"Sounds like you need these." Joss opened the bag and offered it to the weepy woman. "How about we finish up the files, and once I get done at the courthouse, we'll go shopping?

"Sexy dress and mistletoe?"

Joss raised her eyebrows. "For whom?"

Smiling, Samantha took one of the treats and popped in her mouth.


	11. Chapter 11

_You got your wish!_

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

Unlocking the front door, Joss let herself into the house. Not sure what to expect, she was surprised to find that the TV was off and no one was in the living room. Setting her purse on the table near the door, she shrugged out of her coat and hung it on the hook.

"Hello?" she called out to the empty area. "Is anyone home?"

"In here," John replied back.

A little apprehensive, Joss walked slowly to the back of the house to the kitchen.

"Hi Mom," Taylor greeted, but he kept his head down over the sheet of paper he was furiously writing on. Bear barked his hello. Shaw ventured out and wrapped herself around Joss' leg as a greeting.

"Hi T. What's that?" she asked while trying to extract herself from the kitten's grip.

"Algebra homework," John answered. "Seems Taylor has a test coming up, and the teacher gave this to help study."

"Ugh! Algebra. Never could understand how all those X's and Y's were going to help me clip coupons," Joss groused. "That's why I became a lawyer."

"Well, Taylor here, seems to have his heart set on being an engineer, so it might help him."

Joss looked surprised. "Engineer, huh?"

"My teacher was talking about the space lab, and we have a field trip coming up. Can John take me?" Taylor asked hopefully.

Joss seemed skeptical. "Where and when?"

"The Space Museum. And it's on Thursday."

"A week before Christmas? Isn't that a little short notice?" Joss wondered.

"Mr. Finch said it came thru at the last minute," Taylor made the excuse. "He said it would be a wonderful learning experience for us."

"He did, did he? We'll see."

"I have the permission slip right here." Taylor pulled the paper from his backpack.

Joss stood firm. "We'll see," she repeated.

"Have you had dinner?" John changed the subject.

"No," Joss admitted. "Long day. The case I thought was going to be wrapped up quickly, didn't. Seems the defense attorney managed to lose the deposition, so we had to call a recess until a copy could be faxed over. By the time I got out..."

"Well, we haven't eaten, either. If you want, we could go out? Or order something and stay in. I think 'It's A Wonderful Life' is going to be on," he saved the best offer for last.

"I don't know," she hesitated.

"Pizza or Pad Thai? I'll let you choose."

"Pad Thai."

"Yes!" Taylor threw his pencil down. "We'll get it, Mom. You stay here and relax." He jumped up and ran from the room to get his coat and boots.

Overwhelmed by the take-charge attitude of the two guys, Joss laughed softly. "Okay."

"We'll be back as soon as we can," John promised.

"Take your time; I'm going to take a shower."

"Well, the movie isn't going to be on until eight, so we have a little time." John pulled on his coat.

"Thank you, John."

"No problem, Joss."

"You're too kind to us."

"You're easy to be kind to." He took a step forward.

Joss looked up into John's eyes. She could feel a weird feeling beginning in the pit of her stomach. "John, what are you doing?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "What do you think we're doing?" he asked her back. All he did was look at her, but it was enough to make the butterflies go crazy.

"I-I'm not sure." She licked her lips and swallowed. "I-I..."

"I'm ready to go," Taylor announced and broke the moment.

"I-I'll get my purse," Joss excused herself and tried to maintain her composure as she hurried to the living room.

"That's okay, Joss," John said as he followed her. "I have it covered."

"No. No." Joss pulled her wallet from her purse. "You've covered everything since Sunday; I need to pay for something." She handed some bills over. "Here. Take it and put it toward good use."

Reluctantly John took the money. It was no use arguing with her. "If you say so." He looked at his watch. "We'd better leave if we're going to make it back in time for the movie," he said.

"Taylor, don't forget your hat."

"Got it here, Mom." Taylor pulled the wash cap over his head. He opened the door. "Come on."

"I want you to drive safe," Joss ordered. "The roads could get icy."

"I know, Joss. Don't worry." John stood on the threshold.

Joss smiled. "I'm a mom; I worry. It comes with the territory."

"Hey! You guys are standing under the mistletoe," Taylor pointed out with glee.

John looked up. "I guess we are. How do you suppose that got there?" he wondered.

Joss shook her head. "I have no idea."

"You have to kiss her."

John nodded. "He's right." Before Joss could protest, John quickly dipped his head and pressed a brief kiss on Joss' lips. Pulling back, his blue eyes searched her surprised brown ones. Neither seemed willingly to speak for fear of ruining the moment.

"Can we go now?" Taylor asked. "I'm getting hungry."

"Sure," John said, but his eyes never left Joss – even when he walked backwards out of the door.

"Drive safe," Joss repeated. Hand on the door, she watched as the pair crossed the path to John's car. Despite the cold, she waited until the car was out of sight, then closed the door.  
****

" _Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?"_

As the movie ended, Joss brought the tissue up to the corner of her eyes. She wasn't ashamed to admit that she had been crying.

"I always cry at the ending," she confessed with a sniffle.

Taylor made a face and rolled his eyes. "She does."

"Nothing wrong with that," John replied. "It's a good movie." He pointed the remote and turned off the TV.

"I could watch it all the time," Joss said and blew her nose.

"She does," Taylor chimed in. "Alllll the time."

"You're a girl after my own heart," John saidwith a grin. "Taylor, would you take this stuff to the kitchen, please?"

"Sure." Quickly he gathered up the empty dishes and hurried from the room.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening," Joss said as she tried to make conversation.

"My pleasure. You looked as though you had a rough day, and I wanted to take some of the burden from you."

"You didn't have to."

"I didn't," he admitted. "But I wanted to."

"How did you know that I love German Chocolate Cake?"

"A little elf told me."

Joss chuckled. "Would this little elf by any chance be named Taylor?"

John held up his hand. "Yay tall, big brown eyes like his mother's?" he described. "Sounds like him."

An awkward silence fell between them.

"John..."

"Joss..."

"You first," he invited.

"Tonight...when you left...I..." Joss tried to find the right words to describe how she felt about the kiss.

"I didn't plan it – if that is what you're wondering. But I liked it."

"I did too."

"But...?"

"I don't know."

"Let me guess: The matter of the parking ticket," he joked.

"No. Yes. I don't want to rush things. I want to take things slow," she said. "Not like..."

"Cal Beecher," he finished.

Joss was startled by the revelation. "How did you know?"

"Word gets around town."

"Yeah." Joss stood up. "Well...uh...look at the time. I guess you'd better get going if you're going to make your shift in time," she stated, effectively changing the topic.

Realizing that she had shut him out, John took it as his cue to leave. Walking over to the door, he donned his jacket and zipped it up. But he didn't move.

"Oh, what kind of host am I that I leave you standing there?" Joss kicked herself for being rude. "What time will you be picking Taylor up, tomorrow?"

"I'm not. He's got his test, so I figure he can recupe at your mother's. Meanwhile, I want to ask you out to dinner," John offered. "Tomorrow night."

"Dinner? Just you and me?" Joss was thrilled and scared at the same time.

"Unless you want to bring Bear and Taylor with us. It will be a little crowded, but I'm sure we can fit them in," he said in jest.

"No. I like the idea of us...being...alone."

"Just you and me. And no one else."

"Okay," Joss confirmed. "Tomorrow night. What should I wear?"

"What you have on is nice. Or nothing works too." Realizing what he said, John looked mortified. "I didn't mean that the way it came out," he apologized quickly. "I meant you could wear anything."

Joss ducked her head and tried to stifle a laugh. "I knew what you meant. Seven?"

"Seven." John started to open the door and step out. He stopped and looked up.

"What?" Joss asked. John pointed above their heads. "Oh. Well. I guess we got caught again."

"It's tradition," John added.

"Tradition," Joss confirmed breathlessly.

Cupping her cheek, John looked deep into Joss' eyes and felt himself begin to drown. He was going down, but he didn't care. Lowering his head, he pressed his lips to hers in a slow but sweet kiss. Tenderly his lips moved over hers, but didn't rush her. And when he felt her arms go around his neck, he pulled her close.

A soft noise – like the sound of feet shuffling across the floor – caught Joss' sharp ears. Pulling back, she tried to catch her breath and still her heart. "What was that?" she asked.

"I didn't hear anything," John said just as breathless. Standing in the doorway under the mistletoe, he felt that he could stay this way forever.

"You-you should go," Joss said. "I mean, it's getting late."

"I wish I could stay." John's hand didn't move from her cheek.

"I know."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow."

John willed his feet to move forward. "Goodnight Joss."

"Goodnight John."

"Come on, Bear," he called for the canine. Bear bound across the room, out the door, and onto the lawn.

"Taylor should say good-bye," Joss tried to delay the inevitable.

"I'm sure he's okay with it. Maybe tomorrow I can get Bear to take care of your rodent problem," he said tongue in cheek. A faint giggle could be heard from the other room.

"I'd like that. Goodnight John. Be safe."

"You too."

Joss watched until John drove away. Closing the door – although not before she pulled down the sprig hanging over her head - she locked it and set the alarm. Then she turned out the lights.

"Taylor Phillip Carter," she called out as she headed toward the kitchen. "You have some explaining to do." But as she entered the room, she found it empty.

"Taylor?" she called out as she walked down the hallway. Checking the bathroom, it too was empty. "Taylor?" she repeated, but there was no response.

Opening the door to his bedroom, she started to turn on the lights when she noticed the prone figure on the bed. The snoring confirmed that he was fast asleep. Shaw looked up at her with the dismissive attitude of having her sleep interrupted. Joss closed the door.

Touching the mistletoe with her finger, she felt a warm fire slowly begin in her belly and spread throughout. She wasn't sure what was happening, but she liked it.

And tomorrow, she would find out if he liked it too.


	12. Chapter 12

_Four scenes in one chapter. I hope you enjoy._

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

"Something is wrong with Sam," Lionel said out of the blue.

"What do you mean?"

"She's been acting funny."

"Funny, how?"

Lionel held the hot cup of coffee in his hands and tried to soak up the warmth. "I found her crying over a stupid Christmas commercial before I left for work tonight."

John turned his head and looked at him. "Crying? You mean-"

"Tears. Sobbing," Lionel finished. "And it wasn't even that good. It was corny."

"Which one?"

"The Santa one. Where he gets caught in the chimney and rips his pants, and the kid comes out with a roll of tape and fixes it. In return, Santa gives him a train," Lionel described.

"Oh."

Lionel rolled his eyes. "Women. At least when she's at work I can sleep on the bed."

"I'm surprised you weren't doing that before, Lionel," John said, pursing his lips to fight against the smile.

"Well, I've had a long last few days, Superman." Lionel looked at him. "So, what's your story? You looked as though you had a spring in your step tonight."

"Nothing," John evaded. He decided to focus on the song on the radio.

"Nothing? _Nothing?!_ You can't lie to save your life. Spill it. Or else."

"Remember when I said I was getting over my dislike of paperwork?" John asked.

"Yeah."

"I'm over it."

Lionel appeared unimpressed. "Is that supposed to scare me? I'm living with a woman who kicked me to the couch despite me being a police officer and cries during Christmas commercials. Trust me, I'm not scared."

"Okay, Lionel, if you want to know...Joss and I are going out tomorrow night."

"Like a date?"

"Yes."

"Like a real, honest to God, date where you pick up the tab?"

"Kinda like when I walk the beat with you."

Lionel faked a laugh. "Heh. Real funny guy, you are. So, it's getting serious?"

"I think so."

"What about when you have to open up to her?"

"About...?" John prayed for a call to come over the radio. Nothing.

"Her."

"It won't."

"If it does?"

"It won't. Drop it, Lionel."

Lionel held up his hands. "Okay, okay. No need to get grouchy. You're going out, so let's think about this... You're going to have to get her something."

John seemed confused by the statement. "Get her something? Like what?"

"Flowers are a good start. I also know that she's nuts for chocolate."

"Yeah, I figured that one out tonight. What kind of flowers?"

Lionel shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I don't know."

"Roses, chrysanthemums, poinsettias..." John listed.

"Look, I'm only married here; I can't know everything. What does she remind you of?"

"Huh?"

"When you think of Joss, what kind of flower comes to mind? The first one is the right one. At least that is what the florist is going to ask you."

"Thanks for the heads up, Lionel."

"Yeah. Now if I could only figure out what to get Samantha to cheer her up."

" _Dispatch to Adam Four."_

Lionel took the mic. "Adam Four. Go ahead Dispatch."

" _Disturbance at 1504 Main Street. Reports of a drunk Santa singing."_

"Let me guess: And naked."

" _That's a 10-4, Adam Four."_

Lionel and John gave each other a knowing look. "We're on our way. Request ambulance on stand-by."

" _10-4. Dispatch out."_

John looked at Lionel. "Looks as though Santa is trying to bring cheer to the world via eggnog. Again."

"Ho ho ho."  
********

"You're here early," Samantha said as she walked into the office and set her briefcase on the chair.

"Actually, you're late," Joss observed as she looked at the clock. "Is everything alright?"

"Sorry, I got a late start this morning," Samantha apologized.

Joss stood up and walked over to the coffee pot. She poured the dark liquid into a mug. "Two sugars and two creamers, right?" she recited from memory.

Samantha held up her hand. "Ugh! No, thanks. I don't feel very well today." Turning her head, she tried to avoid breathing in the aromatic scent, but it filled the room, and her stomach started doing sommersaults.

Joss put the mug on the counter and walked over to her friend. She peered closely at her features. "Sam, are you okay? You look a little pale."

"I'm just nauseous. I was stuck behind a dump truck on the way in."

Joss looked at her with sympathy. "That would explain it. How about some orange-" Her question was cut off when Samantha bolted from her chair to the nearby restroom and slammed the door behind her.

"Sam?" Joss knocked on the door. "Sam, are you okay?" she asked.

Retching was the only response.

Grimacing, Joss tip-toed back to her desk. "Yeah. I'll just stay here until you need me," she said to the empty room.  
********

"So, what is he like?" Sam Gates asked as he bit into his sandwich.

"Who?"

"The cop who is your big brother. Is he cool?"

"Really cool," Taylor complimented. "He can play basketball almost as good as a pro."

"Wow!"

"He taught me how to shoot hoops, and he can do algebra."

"Even my dad can't do algebra. My nanny had to help me."

"I don't know how adults got thru college," Taylor said sadly and shook his head.

"I know. Is he dad material?" Sam asked.

"I don't know yet. I think he and my mom like each other. They're not fighting like her and that Cal guy did. She did whip his butt, though," Taylor said smugly as he remembered walking in and finding the smooth lawyer lying on his back on the hardwood floor of the living room.

"Yeah, he was kinda weird," Sam agreed. He reached for a chip and popped it in his mouth.

Taylor looked around, then lowered his head. "They kissed."

"Who kissed?" Sam whispered back.

"My mom and Officer Reese."

"On the lips?"

"Yeah."

"Gross!"

"Yeah, it was," Taylor admitted, but he did get a weird feeling about it. So, in his book, it was all good.

"How did that happen?"

"Mistletoe."

"Where?"

"I put some in the doorway while they thought I was getting ready to go out."

"Sneaky. And you think they are going to fall in love?"

"I don't know."

"But you hope so?"

Taylor nodded. "Yeah, I do."

Sam raised his fist. "Good luck."

Taylor bumped him back. "They need it."  
*****

"What's he like, dear?" Mila Kelly asked her daughter as she stirred her coffee.

"Who?" Joss carefully evaded answering directly.

"The man who is taking you out to dinner tonight."

"John."

"John," Mila repeated. "Is he nice?"

"I think so."

"How did you meet?"

"What is this, Mom, 'Twenty Questions'?"

"I just...I want to get to know him a little better. It's a mom thing."

Joss sighed. "He gave me a ticket."

"He's a police officer?"

"No, he works at the movie theater as an usher," Joss replied sarcastically. "Yes, he's a police officer. And it was a parking ticket."

"I warned you about double parking," Mila tsk'd.

"I wasn't double parked," Joss argued. "The meter said twenty minutes remained."

Mila shook her head. "You never can trust those things, dear; they're evil."

"And you should know since you've gotten a hundred parking tickets," Joss returned in jest.

"I've gotten my share." Mila took a cookie from the plate, broke it in half and dipped it in her coffee. "Is he good looking?"

"What?!"

"Don't yell, dear." Mila picked up the plate and extended toward Joss. "Have a cookie."

"I'm not hungry."

"Take the cookie," the tone warned Joss that it wasn't a suggestion. Joss picked up the cookie and took a bite.

"Now, back to my question: Is he good looking?"

"Well...I think so," Joss admitted. "Black hair – with just a touch of gray at the temples – blue eyes."

"Tall?"

"Very."

"Nice build?"

"Mother! Why do you care?" Joss admonished.

"I was just wondering."

"You're my mom."

"I'm still a woman, and I'm not dead."

"Well, you're not supposed to be wondering about the guys I date."

"Considering you've only dated one since Paul died...I haven't had the chance to let my imagination run wild," Mila said with just enough of a saucy tone to make Joss blush.

"Oh, my gosh! My mother is Mae West in a floral print dress."

"You weren't exactly found under a cabbage leaf, Jocelyn."

Joss held up her hand. "I'm going to forget the conversation went down this path. And in answer to your question: Yes, he's well built. He plays basketball and baseball, and he jogs forty miles a week to keep in shape. Happy?"

"You seem to be."

"He treats Taylor good. That's what matters."

"What matters is how he treats you. How does he treat you, Joss?"

"When I stepped on a piece of ceramic, he took care of it," Joss revealed.

"I like him already. Have you told him about Cal Beecher?"

"Should I?"

"It would be fair to him."

"I'm pretty sure Lionel's filled him in."

"Lionel? Samantha's husband?"

"Yes..."

"Wait a minute. John Reese?"

"Yes. Why...?" Joss was confused by the question.

"You're dating Officer John Reese?!" Mila clasped her hands together. "How wonderful!"

"Mother, you're scaring me. What do you know about John Reese?"

"He's the officer who saved Naomi Walter's kitten from the tree a couple of weeks ago."

Joss gave her mother a blank look. "Huh?"

"It was all over the news about the sexy police officer who climbed a tree and saved the poor little kitten right in the nick of time," Mila swooned over dramatically. "Just as the little kitten lost its grip, he reached out and caught it. My daughter is dating a certified hero."

"Mom?" Joss hedged carefully.

"Yes, dear?"

"You need to lay off the Splenda."


	13. Chapter 13

_Many apologies for not posting yesterday. My head was hurting and I was finding it difficult to feel and hear the characters. Maybe it had to do with trying too hard to write the date. As it always goes with CaReese, it's not what happens before and during, but after. I made this chapter a little long; I hope you enjoy it._

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

"Thank you for dinner; it was delicious," Joss complimented as she walked beside John down the nearly deserted neighbourhood sidewalk. Above them the dark blue sky was darted with hundreds of tiny stars and a full moon that seemed to be winking. To their right and left, the heavily decorated houses seemed to add to the sweet ambiance of the moment with their twinkling lights of white, red, and green.

"I wasn't sure what you would like, so I relied on that old saying: 'When in doubt, go with Italian'."

"Well, you made a good choice. I didn't know you could cook, though."

"Surprised?"

"Pleasantly. First you arrive with flowers and pick me up and take me to dinner at your house. Wine, candlelight, Italian..." She sighed happily. "I'm coming to find out that you are a wealth of surprises and secrets."

"Oh?"

"I found out - via my mother - that I am dating a hero cop."

"Hero cop? It wasn't all that the news made it out to be," he protested the unwarranted praise.

"Tell that to the little kitten that you rescued. Mrs. Walters can't seem to quit talking about you," Joss teased.

"I'm sure that anyone would have done the same thing."

Joss shrugged. "Eh. I suppose, but you are the one who risked it all to shimmy up the tree. And you earned the respect and admiration of old ladies all over town," she said with just a touch of over exaggeration.

John chuckled in response.

"What?"

"Just thinking of the dozens of fruitcakes that will be arriving in the mail for Christmas." He grimaced at the prospect.

Joss smiled. "Ah. The downside of fame. You have to take the good with the bad."

"I can live without it. And you didn't know anything about it?" he sounded a little skeptical.

Joss shook her head. "Not a clue. We were busy right after Thanksgiving, and I wasn't paying much attention to the news," she admitted honestly.

"That makes me feel better. At least I know you aren't going out with me due to my celebrity."

Joss scoffed. "And here I thought you weren't conceited." Their steps were perfectly matched as they set the journey to nowhere in particular. It was definitely the epitome of a silent night, and neither was in a hurry to break the spell.

"I have to thank you for not taking me out in public," Joss finally spoke to break the silence. "I don't think I could have handled the noise and chaos."

"Bad day at work?"

"That was just the half of it. Sam got sick, so I sent her home, and then all heck seemed to break loose. Our secretary could only handle so many phone calls, so I took over and helped, and then I forgot about a deposition that was supposed to be filed by noon..." Joss turned her head to look at him. "You are truly a life-saver."

"What's wrong with Sam?" John asked.

"I don't know. Flu bug...stress...holidays," Joss listed the possibilities. "What ever it is, it picked the wrong time to rear its ugly head.

"Yeah, Lionel said that Sam hasn't been herself the last couple of days," John confided his best friend's secret.

"I hope she's okay."

"If it's what I think it is, she'll live," John assured her. "And she'll be back to her normal self in no time. I just hope that it's in time to let Lionel back in their bed. He's becoming a bear."

Joss laughed softly, then looked up at the sky, stopped, and closed her eyes. Unsure what to say or do, John watched as Joss' lips moved silently.

"Amen."

"I'm lost; what happened?" John asked, wanting to be part of the moment.

"I made a wish on a star," Joss said.

"A wish?"

"Yeah, the first star – you know: 'Star light, star bright...'," she recited the poem.

"What for?"

"Can't tell, or it won't come true."

"I made you dinner."

"It will take a lot more than that for me to reveal a wish," she laughed.

"I made dessert too."

Joss pretended to debate with herself. "You're really trying to break down my barriers."

"And I got you flowers," he delivered the __coup de grâce__ _._

"Oh, you are the devil with blue eyes," she chastened with a lilt in her voice. "Okay, okay. I wished for Sam and Lionel to find their way back to one another," she confided in a low whisper.

"I can support that one." John kicked at a small pile of snow that was in his path. "So, what brought you back here? I thought your late husband was career Army?"

Joss looked at him with respect and a touch of irritation. "Researching me?"

"Just the talking points. I promise." He crossed his heart.

"Okay, if you must know, Paul was career Army. We met in high school and he was my first love. Tall, handsome, driven...everything a teenage girl could want. And when he finished his boot camp and did his first tour in Germany, all I knew was that I wanted to be with him. Mother tried to warn me that I was going to be disappointed, but all I could think of, were the adventures to anywhere but here... Until our first duty station."

"The middle of nowhere?" John asked sympathetically.

"Panama. Not really bad, but the middle of nowhere would have been more exciting. I tried to grin and bear it, but... Paul was hardly ever home. So, I started taking night classes and getting my degree. It wasn't until I got my first speeding ticket that I decided that I wanted to be a lawyer. I found that being able to argue was a right I was granted."

"And you got home-sick."

Joss' laugh was mirthless. "How did you know?"

"I saw a lot of it during my time in service. Did you come back here?"

"Not at first. I had had Taylor and Paul was up for another PCS – the first to Lackland, and then Iraq – the latter being unaccompanied. My dad had just died and Mother was feeling alone; I thought I'd come back and help her out."

"But you found what you were missing."

Joss gave him a quizzical look. "Hey! Who's telling the story here? But you're correct. As soon as I came back, I realized that I didn't want to leave again. Paul wasn't happy when I told him I had found a place, but he thought we could work things out." Joss paused before taking a shuddering breath. "Then he died."

There was more to the story, but John wasn't going to push her. "Sounds like you had a rough time."

"I had Mother and my friends. Sam had gotten her degree in Criminal Justice – ironically – and we thought about opening our own business: Free or reduced cost legal aid for anyone who needs it."

"And is that how you met Cal Beecher?"

Joss huddled down inside her coat. "Yeah. Smooth talking, slick Cal. I should have seen that one coming."

"What happened?"

"He caught me when I was vulnerable. It happens. Everyone has their moment of being dazzled by gifts and attention, and I am pleading guilty of having mine. I found out – almost a little too late – that he was a plant sent in to bring us down. The big law firm on the other side of town wanted to gobble us up – they thought we were a threat to their business. Thank goodness for Sam being able to access the backdoor to their computer system and finding out what their plans were."

"I heard it was serious – with Cal."

"With Cal, _everything_ is serious...if it's in _his_ best interest. I wish I had seen it, but I didn't," she groused bitterly. "Until that one night he decided to take our relationship to another level. I don't mind expressing love and affection, but I draw the line at doing it on the couch while my -then- eight year old son is in the other room. I let Cal know, in no uncertain terms, that it was not appreciated. That's when I found out about his part in the take-over plot."

"What happened after that?" John wondered.

"He got a transfer to the big city and moved on with his life. I don't really think about it," Joss admitted. "What about you? What brings you to Hometown, U.S.A.?" she asked, taking the risk of delving into his secret past.

"Did my time in the service, and wanted to take time to find myself. My parents were gone by the time I enlisted -"

"I'm sorry," Joss said softly.

"It's okay," he shrugged. "It made being able to leave that one-horse town a little more easier; I wasn't cut out to be a farmer."

"So you enlisted in the military?" Joss asked quickly as her mind entertained the thought of John in coveralls and pitching hay.

"The Navy."

"A SEAL?" she guessed.

"Almost. I made it through everything, and on the last week I busted my ankle. I had to drop out. But my sniper skills were in demand, and I was sent to Afghanistan and Iraq to help train the armies and police forces we were leaving behind. When my time was up, I decided to pursue law enforcement, and once I completed basic training at the academy, I found that big city life wasn't for me."

"And you found this place?"

"My former Captain had a sister who lived in this area, and he recommended me for a transfer. I moved here, got Lionel as a partner, and the rest is history."

"Never been married?"

"No."

"Close?"

"Sort of."

"Her or you?"

"Both."

"You said she died. How?"

"Accident. Sort of." John kicked a pebble down the sidewalk and watched as it veered off course to hop over the curb and land in the street.

"Did you love her?"

"I thought I did."

"Did she love you?"

"I thought she did."

Joss waited then asked, "You don't like talking about it, do you?"

"Not really."

"May I ask her name?"

"Jessica. Jessica Ardnt," John replied in a hollow tone.

"Lovely name."

John didn't reply, and the rest of the walk was done in silence.

"Well, don't you know," he said as the approached Joss' home. "We walked all the way to your place."

Joss patted her belly for show. "Considering how much I ate, I don't mind the walk."

"What about Taylor?"

"He can stay the night at my mother's; he had that test today, and he seemed pretty bummed out." Joss shook her head in disbelief and said, "Algebra in fifth grade; I don't get it."

"He'll recover, Joss. Maybe I can take him out Christmas shopping tomorrow," John offered. "Help boost his spirits. You're invited to come, too."

"I'd love to, but I have to clear up a couple of cases before Christmas. Maybe we can do it this weekend?" she suggested the alternative.

"You and me?"

"I'd like that." Slowly they walked up the path to the porch. The wind gently picked up speed, and Joss shivered.

"Cold?" John asked and moved closer to shield her with his body.

"A little." That was a lie. She wasn't cold, she was burning hot. And having him stand close was only making matters worse.

"What are you going to do when I leave?" he wondered.

"Find out where to put thirty-six tulips in my house. I do thank you for the flowers," Joss said. "They're beautiful."

"You're welcome."

"No one has ever given me pink tulips before." Joss confessed.

"I like to think outside the box," John said with a grin. "Besides, it was Lionel's idea."

"How so?"

"He told me to imagine what flower you might be."

"And you think I'm a tulip?" Joss wondered with amusement. "How?"

"It's a delicate flower that stands tall and proud, and usually blooms in the peak of winter. It keeps it petals closed to ward off any intruders. And it has a subtle scent that most people can't notice unless you close your eyes and concentrate." John cupped her cheek and stroked her cheek softly with his thumb. "And only when you're ready, you blossom and let people see the magnificence of who you really are – beauty and uniqueness," he finished.

"That is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me," Joss whispered.

"I meant it." John lowered his head and kissed her. Soft and slow, he moved his lips over hers until she responded back in kind. Hot and demanding, they did a lovers' give and take. She tasted of red wine and rich, dark chocolate cake, and he wanted to devour her.

Joss weaved her fingers in John's hair and drank in his unique taste of spices and expensive cologne. If she could, she would stay right here – with him – forever.

Remembering that they were out in the open, John broke away and buried his face in Joss' hair. "I got carried away," he apologized.

"Me too." Her blood was boiling hot, but she never felt so alive. She tried to calm her racing heart beat.

"This has never happened to me before."

"Never?" Joss found that hard to believe.

John pulled back to look into Joss' eyes full of questions and doubts. "Never," he confirmed.

"I think it's getting late, and you have to work tonight," she reminded him.

"I'll make it," he promised. His eyes held hers.

In the distance a siren wailed.

"Drunk naked Santa strikes again," Joss joked lightly. "Looks like your night is going to be a fun one."

"I got to spend most of it with you, so I don't mind," John said softly.

"You should go," she said reluctantly. She didn't want him to go. Not now. Not ever.

"I'll be back tomorrow night," he promised. "We'll do pizza."

"Pizza sounds good."

John leaned down and kissed Joss hard and fast. "Goodnight, Joss." Even though he was going to see her in a few hours, he felt as though his heart was breaking in half.

"Goodnight, John," she whispered.

"Go inside so you don't freeze," he ordered.

"Okay." Joss fumbled for the keys. Finally locating them, she unlocked the door. "Stay safe."

"I will."

Walking down the steps, John walked backwards down the path to the main sidewalk and stayed that way until he was out of sight.

With a sad but happy heart, Joss went inside and closed the door.


	14. Chapter 14

_I know that some of you can't stomach the Fusco/Root relationship, and I respect that; I won't be offended if you click off of this chapter. I understand._

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

Wiping the sleep from his eyes and yawning wide, Lionel sauntered down the staircase and into the dining room. Stretching, he sniffed the air and felt his mouth water. _Sauteed mushrooms?_ He wasn't sure, but he hoped he wasn't imagining what his stomach was rumbling for.

Looking at the table, he felt his hunger being replaced with apprehension. Beautifully aligned place settings, with a flower arrangement in the middle of the table, and lit candles – he took in the scene. There was only reason for the elaborate decorations: He was in trouble.

"Sam?" he called out. "Sam?" As he walked toward the door, it suddenly swung open and hit him in the face. "OW!" he exclaimed and covered his nose.

"Oh, Lionel. I didn't see you," Samantha apologized and quickly put the hot dish down on the table. "Are you okay?"

"I called for you; I guess you didn't hear me," he said and rubbed his forehead. "That's going to leave a mark."

"Come here." She took his hand and guided him to a chair. "Let me see." She examined the red bump and his nose. "I don't think it's broken," she said confidently and stepped back. ""Good news is: You're going to live."

"I don't know. You did hit me pretty hard. Are you sure you don't want to get a second opinion," Lionel joked. Samantha lowered her eyes and felt her cheeks blush hot pink. "So, what's the occasion?" Lionel wondered.

"Hmm...why do you ask?" Samantha carefully evaded and walked back into the kitchen. Lionel followed her.

"Am I in trouble?" he asked point blank.

"Trouble? No. Not really." She lifted the lid on the pot, stirred, then turned off the burner. "Could you hand me the bowl on the middle shelf?" she asked.

"Uh, sure." Lionel took the bowl down and handed it to her. "Not really...? I am going to translate that into 'I'm in a heap of big trouble'."

Samantha stopped spooning the mashed potatoes into the bowl and turned around. "I know that I've been a bit...moody the past few days," she admitted and bit her bottom lip. "But it's not about you, I promise."

"Coulda fooled me." Lionel rubbed his back for emphasis. "And for the record, I think the springs are broken in the couch."

"Sorry," Sam said contritely.

"Well, maybe you can tell that to my back. And so you know, John and Joss went out on a date tonight. So, I think things are good with them again. At least that should afford me the right to my bed," he threw the suggestion out there.

Ignoring him, Samantha returned to her task. "Would you take these to the table?" she asked and turned to hand him the medium sized bowl.

Not receiving an answer to his request, Lionel seemed apprehensive. "I guess." He took the bowl and carried it to the living room.

Quick as lightning, Samantha opened the refrigerator door, placed something inside, then closed it just as Lionel returned.

"At least if I am in trouble, it smells good," he complimented in an off-hand way as he continued with his rant.

"Would you do one more favour and get the wine while I carry this to the table?" she asked and took the platter with the slow roasted ham in her hands.

"Sure. Nothing like a couple of glasses of wine to get me in the mood for a night-shift with drunk, naked Santa," Lionel grumbled and pulled open the door. Looking at the shelf, he reached for the bottle, then stopped as he noticed the long gift wrapped box sitting beside it.

"What's this?" He grabbed the box and turned it over in his hands. He put it up to his ear and shook it. Nothing that gave away what the contents might be. He shook it again.

" _Merry Christmas Lionel. Love, Samantha +1,"_ he read the tag out loud. Curious, he pulled the wrapping paper off and let it fall to the floor. He stared at the white box. Once more, he shook it. Then he removed the lid.

He blinked once. Twice. But his brain was having a hard time comprehending what he was looking at. "Two blue lines?" he muttered. "Two blue -" Slowly the light bulb came on.

The door opened slowly and Samantha stepped inside. "Lionel?"

"This...?" He held up the stick. "Does this mean what I think it means?" he asked carefully as though he didn't want to get his hopes up only to have them dashed.

Samantha smiled. "Merry Christmas!"

"A baby?" Lionel asked. "We're having a baby?"

"Yes," she confirmed with a smile and nod.

"You and me?" He pointed to her and then at himself.

"I hope so. Unless you know something I don't," she quipped with a confused look.

As the news sunk in, a look of elation crossed Lionel's face. "WOOO HOOO!" he exclaimed in a loud, booming voice that bounced off the walls. Hurrying over, he took Samantha in his arms, and spun her around.

Unsure how to react, Samantha's bottom lip trembled as she fought to control her emotions. "You're happy?"

"Happy?!" he sputtered in confusion and elation. "Sam... If I were any happier, I would be the drunk naked Santa singing Christmas Carol's on Main Street," he stated in a voice filled with tears of happiness. "Of course I'm happy! This is the best present anyone has ever given me." He cupped her face in his hands and looked deep into her eyes.

"I wanted to do something special this year; give you that one in a million gift."

"You succeeded." Lowering his head, he kissed her. Soft and slow, he wanted to show her how much he truly loved her. And she responded back in kind.

Coming up for air, he hugged her against him. "Is there anything you made that will spoil?" he asked.

"No. Why?" she asked with a puzzled look.

"Good!" Swinging her into his arms, he held her tight. "Because I need to thank you in private." He looked at her. "Unless I'm not off the couch; then I have to ask: Your place or mine?"

"You're off the couch, Lionel."

"That's all you have to say," he stated and hurried out of the room toward the staircase. He stopped.

"You do know that you did assault a police officer earlier, right?" he stated matter of factly. "And you being a lawyer, you know should know the penalty for said assault."

"Which is...?" Sam asked coyly. Lionel dipped his head and whispered in her ear. "Oh, well, then, I'm ready to be sentenced, officer."

Without further ado, Lionel took the stairs two at a time – his footsteps echoing throughout the house, followed by the slamming of the bedroom door.


	15. Chapter 15

_Before you throw rocks and bricks, remember that the story isn't over...yet._

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

Standing outside the courtroom, Joss looked down the long, wide hallway one more time. The recess that had been called for an hour was almost over, and she was still waiting for the file Sam had promised to deliver.

"Come on, Sam," she muttered under her breath.

Another day started off on the wrong foot, but she had wished it could go in another direction. Except when Sam came in late, and the perfume of one of the clients caused her to lose both dinner and breakfast in one sitting. Then the accident on Main that had forced Joss to park and walk to the courthouse.

Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the cool marble. Maybe tonight she and John could catch a movie before he had to go to work. Or maybe they could just sit on the porch and count the stars. Either way, spending time with him was the one thing she was looking forward to.

The ringing of her phone made her sit up. Hitting the talk button, she spoke.

"Sam?"

"Hi Mom. It's Taylor."

"Hi T. Where are you?" she asked.

"The mall."

"What? Could you speak up?"

"The mall!"

"Are you okay?"

"Officer Reese and I are doing some shopping."

"That's good, honey. Do you need money?" she asked. At that moment the bailiff came out to announce they were reconvening.

"I'm good. Mom, can we get a tree?"

"A what?" Joss put her finger in her ear.

"A tree. I know what you said, but I think we need one this year," Taylor explained.

Before Joss could answer, Samantha came running up. "Joss, I'm sorry this is late," she apologized breathlessly. "Traffic and..."

"Thank you, Sam." Joss turned her attention back to the phone. "What was it you were saying, Taylor?" she asked.

The bailiff motioned her in. "Turn off the cell," he warned in a no arguing tone. "Now!"

"T, I gotta go. Get what ever you want, okay? I love you." Joss turned off the phone and walked into the courtroom. The bailiff closed the doors behind her.  
*****

"I can't believe Mom said yes," Taylor chortled and hung the bulbs on the hooks.

"Are you sure?" John asked as he undid the strand of multi-coloured lights from the box.

"I asked her twice, and she said yes." Taylor crossed his heart.

"Okay. Help me with this," he offered an end. "Let's start at the top and work our way down." A few minutes later he stood back and gave their effort a looksee. He patted Taylor on the shoulder. "Tell you what, I'll order the pizza, and you finish decorating."

"Make sure you get extra pepperoni," Taylor piped up from his place behind the 7 foot tall Evergreen.

"Coke or Dr. Pepper?"

"Dr. Pepper."

"Got it. Anything else?"

"Ahhh...twisty bread?"

"You're a kid after my own heart. Anything for your mom?"

"Better get her the meat lover's special. Extra everything."

"Be back in a few."

Forty minutes later the pizzas were delivered and the tree was decorated – save for the angel. Looking at the clock on the shelf, Taylor made a face.

"Where is she?" he asked rhetorically. "She was supposed to be home already."

"Maybe she got caught in traffic."

"I'm going to call her." Pressing the keypad, Taylor waited for the phone to connect. "Hi Mom. Where are you?...Around the corner?...Yeah, sure; we have dinner. Bye...oh, wait! Come in thru the back door, okay? Okay. Bye."

"Where is she?" John asked.

The sound of the car pulling into the driveway alerted them to the answer they were waiting for. A minute passed before Joss opened the door and stepped inside. Taylor nearly knocked her over with a hug.

"Good to see you too, Taylor. Were you good today?" she wondered. Her eyes looked up to see John standing by the wall. He winked at her.

Taylor rolled his eyes. "I'm good every day, Mom. It's not like I'm six anymore."

"Just making sure." She breathed in deeply. "That smells so good. I missed lunch."

"You work too hard," Taylor admonished.

"It pays the bills. Plus, we won. Small victory, but I'll take any one I can get." Joss lifted the lid on the box marked "SPECIAL". "This one must be for me."

"And we got something else, Mom," Taylor stated excitedly. He was nearly jumping up and down.

"Okay, Taylor." Joss took a sausage piece off the pie and popped it in her mouth. Sticking her finger in her mouth, she stopped as she caught John staring at her. Embarrassed, she wiped her hands on a serviette.

"Taylor has something he wants to show you," John added. He had nearly swallowed his tongue, but he was trying to keep his composure.

"Alright. Alright. Let's see this thing so we can eat," Joss laughed.

"Close your eyes, Mom," Taylor ordered and ran ahead to the living room.

"Come here, Joss." John took her hands in his. Dipping his head down, he pressed a quick kiss on her lips. "Follow me." He led the way.

The faint sound of 'Jingle Bells' filled the large room, followed by a click.

"Okay, Mom. Open your eyes!"

Slowly Joss opened her eyes and found a heavily, but awkwardly, decorated tree standing before her. What she presumed had to be a couple hundred lights flashed in rapid succession to the music. Stunned, she opened her mouth and closed it twice.

"You said we could get a tree, so we got the biggest one they had. And John bought all of the decorations because we didn't have any, and I – I mean we decorated it. Do you like it?" Taylor rushed on so fast he forgot to breathe.

Joss felt hot tears rush to her eyes. "Where did this come from?" she asked in a strangled voice. Her hands stretched and reached, then balled into fists.

"The tree lot. They gave Officer Reese a special discount 'cause he's military," Taylor added proudly. "We saved the angel so you could put it on top." He thrust the delicate but beautiful angel into Joss' hands.

Joss turned to look at John. "You put him up to this," she accused. The tears threatened to spill, but she blinked them back.

John was confused by the change in attitude. "Joss, what are you talking about? I didn't put Taylor up to anything."

"I said no trees."

"But I called..." Taylor started but was interrupted.

"We've had this discussion before."

"Not with me," John said evenly.

"Taylor. I've had it with Taylor," she clarified. "No trees."

"But Mom..."

"It's a tree, Joss; it's not hurting anything, and Taylor wanted it."

"I know what my son wants, and I know what I said. My mother has a tree; we don't need to spend money on another one."

" _We_ didn't spend money on a tree," John returned. Years of military and police officer training had taught him to control and hold his temper, but with each passing second, he was finding it difficult to remember why. " _I_ spent the money. You're not out a dime."

"This is between me and Taylor."

"No," John contradicted. "Taylor did nothing wrong. And for the record, I was with him when he called and asked you if he could get a tree, and you said he could."

"What? Wait! I was in the middle of a recess and I got the call from Taylor," Joss remembered. "He never asked for a tree."

"He did."

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"I'm not calling you anything, Joss; I just heard his side of the conversation."

"Mom, I'm sorry," Taylor apologized. "I just thought with Officer Reese being with us this year, we could start a new tra-tra-"

"Tradition?" John and Joss supplied simultaneously.

"Tradition. And we've never had a tree – at least one I can remember – and why not?" Taylor pleaded.

"No."

"Be reasonable, Joss."

"Don't tell me to be reasonable. I said no tree, and I mean it," her tone was firm and final.

"So, that is the thank you that we get for trying to do something nice," John groused.

"John..."

"No, Joss. Your son wanted to do something nice – it was all he's talked about since Monday."

"No he hasn't," Joss answered back.

"Because you didn't listen. Let him have the tree."

"Make it my Christmas present," Taylor piped up.

Joss closed her eyes and counted to ten. "No."

John felt the cold hard meaning of the word hit the centre of his heart. It was a no-win situation.

"Okay," he nodded. "I think I'm going to call it a night." Picking his coat up from the back of the couch, he slipped it on.

"Don't go, Officer Reese," Taylor begged and grabbed a hold of John's arm.

"I need to go get ready for work, Sport." John rubbed Taylor's head affectionately.

"But we haven't eaten. Stay for dinner."

"I want to, but I have to let Bear out and feed him. But I'll be back tomorrow. We got hoops, remember?"

Taylor nodded, but his broken heart was in his eyes as the tears raced down his cheeks. "Okay," he croaked. John pulled open the front door and closed it behind him.

"Don't let him leave, Mom," Taylor pleaded. "Tell him you're sorry."

Spinning on her heel, Joss hurried to the kitchen and grabbed her purse. Running out the front door, she caught up to where John's car was parked.

"John!" she called out just as he was getting inside. Stopping, he turned to look at her.

"What, Joss?"

"Here." She dug in her purse and pulled out some cash. Quickly she added up the cost of everything and thrust the money toward John. He looked at with disinterest.

"What is that for?"

"I'm paying you back – the tree, the decorations..."

"The pizza," he added tonelessly.

"It's the least I can do."

"No, Joss, the least you can do is go inside and tell your son that you're sorry, and then let him have the tree."

Joss looked down at the ground. "I can't."

"You won't. Keep your money."

"John -"

"You know what this is about."

"No, John, tell me."

"It's about Paul."

"What do you know -?"

"More than you've told me. You're lying to yourself and to the little boy about why you don't want a tree. Be honest and admit what really happened."

"You don't know anything that happened between me and Paul," she shot back.

"I know that ever since he died you refuse to have a tree. Either it's out of grief or guilt. I'm going to err on the latter."

"Oh, this coming from the guy who refuses to talk about his ex," Joss threw back with just a touch of venom.

"Leave Jessica out of this," John warned.

"That's easy since you never talk about her. You wanted to know everything about Paul and my relationship with him, but the moment I bring up Jessica, you clam up. And now you have the audacity to tell me that I have to let go and have something that I don't want. How is that fair, John?"

"Keep the money." He pulled open the door of the car. "I'm going to be late for work. Now excuse me." Getting inside, he slammed the door hard. With purpose, he turned the ignition and gunned the engine. Without a backwards glance, he put the car in drive and sped away. Within moments the red tail lights were swallowed into the darkness.

Stunned silent, Joss walked slowly up the pathway to the porch and back inside the house.

"He's gone," Taylor whispered tearfully.

"Taylor..."

"I'm going to bed." Running out of the room, he hurried down the hall to his room. A moment later the slamming of a door reverberated throughout the house.

Unable to find the words to describe anything she was feeling, Joss hung her head in shame.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hope Is Born Again**

"Sam is pregnant," Lionel announced happily.

"Sam's, what?"

"With child, nesting, got a bun in the oven, in the family way..." Lionel listed all the slang terms. "Pregnant."

John smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "Congratulations. I guess you're off the couch...for now."

"I am off the couch, pal. For good," Lionel boasted. "I don't know if I want a boy or a girl – mean, I want it to be healthy – because that's what matters most, right?" he rambled on quickly.

"Right."

"And maybe a boy would be cool – a little slugger to play catch with and take to the games..." He threw a glance at John. "Maybe some camping trips down to the lake...you know, doing those man things that I never got to do with my dad."

"Sounds good, Lionel," John replied with feigned interest.

"But a little girl..." Lionel sighed. "Tea parties...princess dates with dad..." He had a far away look in his eyes as his imagination ran down the road of probably.

"High heels, make-up, and dating boys," John finished tonelessly.

Lionel stopped in his tracks. "Wait! Oh no! Not my princess!" he stated emphatically. "No boy is coming within twenty feet of her!"

"So he says," John muttered.

"Over my dead body! I'm a guy and I know what they think and how they act." Lionel rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I wonder if it's too early to look into convents," he mused.

"You have to run it past Sam, and I'm sure she's not going to be keen on her daughter being shut away."

"Sam isn't a man, but she is married to one," Lionel reasoned, "and I'm sure I can convince her. How hard can it be?"

"You never want to get off the couch, do you?"

"I'm in good now, pal. Ain't nothing gonna change that." Lionel puffed out his chest.

"Well, I know that no one is going to mess with an off-spring from you and Sam," John mused with a chuckle.

"One little episode in college, and you hold it against her forever."

"Not holding it against her, Lionel. Just hope that it's diluted in the DNA before it gets passed down."

"We're good. We're having a kid. Our marriage is good. That's more than what most people have going for them. And just so you know, we've decided that we want you and Joss to be our child's godparents."

John tried to think of something to say, but the words failed him. "Lionel...I..."

"Uncle John and Aunt Joss. And when you two get married..." Lionel grinned broadly at the thought.

"Yeah...about that..." John began.

"Wait! What happened? What did you do?" Lionel accused.

Startled, John pulled back. "What did _I_ do? Nothing. Other than get a tree."

"You got a tree? A Christmas tree?"

"Is there any other?"

Lionel slapped his forehead. "Why didn't you come to me first?"

"I didn't know I was supposed to. What is wrong with getting a tree?" John was flummoxed by the reaction. "First Joss, then you..."

"It's purely verboten in the Carter house."

"I found that out – the hard way."

"She threw you out?"

"I didn't give her a chance; I left before she could lob anything at me."

"Ugh! This is a mess. And just when I thought I was back in good with Sam."

"How is this going to affect what you have with Sam?" John asked.

"Uh, she's pregnant and hormonal. And chicks always stick together. It's an unwritten law of some kind that we men are not privy to."

"I'll talk to her."

"And make things worse." Lionel paced. "I'm sure I can sugar-coat this and make everyone look good."

"What happened that makes Joss feel this way about Christmas?"

"Her late husband."

"I know about him."

"And he died around Christmas," Lionel continued.

"I know about that, too."

Lionel looked around the deserted streets before leaning in and lowering his voice. "You didn't hear this from me, but things weren't so good in the Carter household before Paul died."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know exactly what was going on, but it wasn't good. If you want the full story, you're going to have to ask her."

"She's not talking to me," John pointed out the sad fact.

"Well, I'm not one to spread gossip, and I do want to live to see my kid, so I'm keeping my mouth shut."

"Did Paul...?" John left the question hanging and unfinished. He could feel a sourness grow in his stomach.

Lionel shook his head. "No. Nothing like that. But they were definitely on the rocks."

"Oh."

The pair walked in silence for a few blocks.

"Have you told her about Jessica?" Lionel asked out of the blue.

"I-"

"Yes or no."

"No," John admitted.

"So, let me get this straight: You are upset that Joss jumped the gun – so to speak – over you going behind her back and getting a tree, but you still haven't told her about Jessica? Someone needs to get their priorities straight."

"Jessica isn't important," John argued.

"Not important? Not important?! Jessica is just as important to her as Paul is to you! What did you think was going to happen? That Joss was just going fall into your arms and look at you as her knight in shining armour and not give a care about your past?"

"Lionel -"

"I failed at one marriage because of my selfish greed, so I know the signs," Lionel preached angrily. "And the fastest way to destroy trust is to keep secrets. Joss has just as much right to know about your past."

"I was just learning to like the holidays again. I didn't want her to hate me."

"And that is supposed to surprise me? How do you think she feels about you now, Einstein? If I know her, those outings with Taylor are going to be cut off. Your days of being a Big Brother are over," Lionel said.

"What do you suggest I do?"

"You mean to win her back and keep your title of 'Sexiest Hero Cop In America'?" Lionel said tongue in cheek. "You come clean. And dispose of the tree."

"I don't know, Lionel."

"Then I don't know what to tell you, pal. You're going to be on your own on this one."

"Thanks."

"Thanks? Pffft. Because of you, I'm going to be sleeping on the couch for the rest of my existence." Lionel kicked at a snow drift. "You should have stuck with the mistletoe."  
*******

"Joss, are you okay?" Samantha asked with concern as her partner walked into the office.

"Yeah. I'm okay," Joss replied dismissively. "Is there any coffee?"

"We were out, so Zoe ran down to the store to get some more." Samantha looked closely at Joss' face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just need to get some reports done." Joss turned and headed toward her desk.

"You've been crying. Talk to me, Joss. What happened? Is it Taylor?" Worry darkened her features.

"Taylor is okay," Joss assured. "I had a rough night. You, on the other hand, look as though Santa came early."

"In a way." Samantha opened her purse and pulled out the stick. She handed it to Joss.

Joss looked down. "Is this...? Sam! Are you...?" Samantha nodded her head. "You're going to be a mom?"

"Yep."

"And Lionel is going to be a dad?" The idea was almost unfathomable.

Samantha nodded again. "Yeah."

"Oh, come here!" Joss pulled her friend in for a tight hug. "I'm so happy for you. When? How far along are you? Do you have any names picked out?"

"Third week in August. Six weeks. If Lionel has any say about it, Sister Mary Eleanor may be a strong possibility."

"Convents already?"

"He threw a few suggestions out as I was leaving this morning. I'm sure that if it is a girl, she will be able to take care of herself," Sam boasted. "Although I'm still trying to figure out why he decided to sleep on the couch." Her brow knitted together.

"And considering Daddy is a police officer, no guy within fifty miles is going to want to get near her."

"Then again, if it's a boy, I am considering military school."

"Afraid the apple won't fall far from the tree?" Joss joked.

"More afraid that it won't fall from the tree," Samantha corrected. "Oh...two Lionel Fuscos running around in this world... I don't know what I was thinking, Joss," she wailed.

"The world survived one, it will survive a second," Joss soothed.

"And since he or she will have you and John as godparents, I'm pretty sure the four of us can corral Junior."

Joss hoped the shock she felt wasn't apparent on her face. "John and I? We're going to be, what?"

"Godparents. Lionel and I agreed that we couldn't have chosen two better people to entrust our child to, just in case, but nothing is going to happen, right? But it's always better to be safe than sorry."

Joss tried to force a smile she wasn't feeling. "Yeah...about that. Um...maybe it's not a good idea, Sam. I want to, but I...I..." Joss turned her head and blinked to keep the tears at bay. "I can't."

"Joss, what's wrong?" Samantha asked softly. "Talk to me. Did John hurt you? I know some people..."

"No," Joss shook her head. "He bought a tree."

"A Christmas tree?"

"Is there any other?"

"Oh, Joss. Why?"

"I don't want a tree," Joss stated firmly.

"I know. But what you want and what Taylor needs are two different things. Did you tell John the reason you don't want a tree, or did you kick him out?" Samantha asked in a knowing tone.

"I didn't kick him out; he left on his own volition."

Samantha sighed. "Oh, Joss. Why are you hiding what happened with Paul?"

"John doesn't need to know."

"Doesn't need to know?! In what universe? You date him, allow him to take your son out, and you say you don't owe him?!" Samantha asked in astonishment.

"He's held back on Jessica."

"And that suddenly makes two wrongs into a right? Tell him you're sorry."

"I can't." Joss shook her head at the thought.

"A man treats you like a queen, treats your son like his own, and you say you can't tell him you're sorry? Are you crazy?!"

"He lied about Jessica."

"Did he ever really say anything about Jessica?" Samantha volley back.

"No. Not really...other than to say that she died."

"She is dead, so he didn't lie."

"But he wasn't honest with me."

"Joss, you're a lawyer; you have the ability to get the truth out of anyone – including John Reese." Samantha sat down on the corner of the desk. "Do you want to know why you didn't grill him?"

"No, Sam. Tell me."

"Because you're afraid. You have a one in a million guy who loves you – for real – and you love him, and both of you are scared. You think you can hide behind your past and then you don't have to worry about commitment."

Samantha leaned in. "But you're both wrong. Go after him. Tell him what he needs to know and make him tell you about Jessica."

"And if he doesn't?" Joss asked.

"Then you go to the internet. Just remember to be careful what you look for."

Joss thought for a moment, then turned on her computer. Clicking the mouse, she started to type. Samantha stilled her hand.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked.

"I have nothing to lose but John," Joss said, her voice shaking from emotion.

Samantha smiled. "That's my girl."


	17. Chapter 17

**I hope all of my readers had a happy, safe, and blessed Christmas! Here is a new chapter! And I hope to have another soon!**

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

"Do you hate my mom?" Taylor asked. His brown eyes were wide with fear.

Lost in his own thoughts, John barely heard the question. "What?"

"Do you hate my mom?" Taylor threw the basketball and watched as it hit the rim of the hoop and bounced back.

"No, Sport. I don't hate your mom," John reassured the child. "Why do you ask?"

"All during the field trip today, you didn't say nothing."

"Anything," John automatically corrected.

Taylor rolled his eyes. "Anything. Why not?"

"I was giving you your chance to experience the museum."

"She didn't say no, you know."

John took the ball and threw it. "About what?"

"You taking me today. I reminded her, and she said okay." Although, to be sure, Taylor didn't think his mom had heard a word he said before he headed out the door to catch the bus. He didn't feel like being polite, and he hadn't wanted to stick around and have her drive him to school. He needed to get out and think.

"That's good." John's shot fell short. He walked over and picked the ball up, dribbled it twice, then tossed it to Taylor.

"I think you should talk to her."

"Taylor..."

"No, really."

"I don't think we should be talking about this."

"Do you love her?" Taylor asked. He threw the ball at John.

"Taylor, it's..."

"A grown up thing. Yeah, I know." He shook his head and looked down at the ground. "Mom tells me that when she doesn't want to talk about things."

"Hmmm."

"What are you doing for Christmas?" Taylor wondered.

"Probably working," John tried to make it sound final, but his heart wasn't in it. He knew where he wanted to be, but that wasn't possible.

"You could come to our house."

John shook his head. "Taylor, that wouldn't be a good idea."

"It would," he argued, "if you and Mom could make up."

"Taylor..."

"Just tell her you're sorry."

"It doesn't work that way."

"Yes, it does," Taylor contradicted. "Isn't that what adults always tell kids: 'Say you're sorry'. Well, here is your chance."

John closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I don't know, Taylor."

Taylor threw the ball at John. "Well, you won't know unless you try. I like you. And I think my mom likes you..." He lifted then dropped his shoulders. "...sort of. She cried herself to sleep. I heard her."

"Taylor, I don't know what to say." And he didn't. There was no response he could say to tell how he felt about making Joss cry.

"My mom never cries," Taylor admitted. "Well, only a couple of times," he corrected. "But not even that Cal guy made her cry."

John looked at the ball and tried to think of a response.

"You like her. And we made a mistake. But we can make it better. Besides, you don't kiss people you don't like," Taylor finished. He crossed his arms over his chest and fixed a hard stare at his mentor.

John looked at his watch. "It's getting late; let me get you to your grandmother's."  
******

"Grandma?" Taylor called out as he entered the kitchen via the backdoor.

"Hi, Taylor sweetie. Come here and give me a hug," Mila invited and held her arms wide. Wrapping her arms around her grandson, she hugged tightly. "How are you? How was your field trip?"

Taylor pulled back. "Fun! We got to go on a replica of the space shuttle and we got to see the 'Vomit Comet', but we weren't allowed to go in it," he frowned.

"Good." Mila looked up at John who was standing in the doorway. "Well, hello," she greeted warmly. "I'm Mila Kelly, Taylor's grandmother."

"And I am -"

"John Reese," Mila finished. "Come in. Why don't you sit down and let me get you something to drink?" she invited.

John shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm good."

"Let it be my way of thanking you for accompanying Taylor on the trip."

"It was my pleasure."

"I made shortbread cookies, and I have homemade hot chocolate on the stove..." she sweetened the offer. Literally.

John wrestled with himself only to give in. "Maybe for a minute."

"How wonderful!" Mila turned to Taylor. "Go wash up, Taylor. Take your time."

Taylor looked from John to his grandmother. "Okay."

"I should wash up," John said.

"You can use the tap here," Mila said. She took down three mugs and three saucers and placed them on the table. "Dry off on the tea towel and come sit down."

John did as he was told. Picking up a cookie, he examined it, but he didn't eat. "Thank you."

"It's no trouble," Mila replied as she poured the boiling hot liquid into the thick, ceramic mug. "It's not every day I get to play hostess to a hero cop."

John seemed embarrassed by the remark. "I thank you, but I'm not."

"I begged to differ."

"Mrs. Kelly..."

"Mila or Mom," she corrected. "Most people call me Momma or Granny. It's your choice."

"Mila."

"What you did was commendable, and not many guys can say that they made it as far as you did and survived to tell the tale."

"We're not talking about the kitten, are we?"

Mila sat down. "What happened?"

John was confused. "What happened...? Is this about last night?" he asked back. "How did you know?"

"Joss returned something before heading to work this morning, and she looked as though she had been crying. I can only think of two things that caused that emotion. What happened?"

John broke the cookie in half so he could have something to do with his hands.

"I bought her a tree," he admitted.

"I see."

"I thought we had permission, but..." he trailed off.

"My daughter can be hard-headed," Mila admitted reluctantly. "It's not a trait I'm proud of, but considering it's on both sides of the family, well...her DNA didn't stand a chance. But it's served her well. She picked herself up after Paul's death and soldiered on with raising Taylor and building her business. It kept her from falling into Cal Beecher's hands, so I can't completely fault her."

John dipped the corner of the cookie in the hot chocolate and nibbled.

"She's in love with you."

"Mrs. Kelly -"

"Mila."

"Mila. Your daughter and I had a falling out, and -"

"Do you love her?" Mila asked point blank.

"Do I -?"

"Love her. My daughter."

"I don't know."

"So, why are you hanging around?"

"I owed Taylor."

"With all due respect, I wasn't born yesterday. You obviously care about her – still – or you wouldn't be here," Mila stated. "You could have told Taylor any kind of lie to get out of the field trip, but you took him. And that my daughter let you – despite how she was feeling – tells me what I need to know."

John looked at her in surprise and disbelief.

"Although I have a feeling that neither of you have been entirely honest with the other."

"It's complicated."

"Life is complicated, Officer. Make her tell you what you want to know. But know this: She is going to want the same in return. Are you ready to cross that line?"

"I don't know," John confessed.

"Well, when you're ready, sit down and talk to her."

"I doubt she wants to talk to me."

"She does, but like I said, she's hard headed. She needs a little push sometimes," Mila advised. "As do you."

"She might not like it."

"Nothing good comes easy. But it is Christmas, so I'm sure that there might be a miracle or two in Santa's pocket." Mila stood up. "I'm sure you've had a long day today, Officer, and you want to get home and sleep before your shift."

"Yes."

"Would you like to take some cookies for work?" she offered.

"I..." John started to protest, but changed his mind. "That would be nice. Thank you."

"Thought you would say that; I have some right here." Mila handed a brown paper bag to John. "There are enough in there for your partner, too."

A smile tugged on John's lips. "I don't think there are enough cookies for Lionel."

"I can always make more."

John stood up. "Thank you for the cookies. And the advice."

Mila reached out and touched his arm. "Good luck, Officer."

"John."

"Thank you, John."

Taylor came running out. "Officer Reese! Are you leaving?"

"Need to get some sleep, Sport. But I'll see you tomorrow."

"Promise?" Taylor looked hopeful.

"I promise." John opened the door and stepped out on to the porch. "Until tomorrow."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Taylor watched as John drove away.

"Come away from the door, Taylor," Mila said. "Your chocolate is getting cold."

"It's gotta work," Taylor muttered under his breath. "If it doesn't, I'm going to have to go with 'Plan B'."

Mila looked up from pouring the drink. "What was that, dear?"

"Uh, nothing, Grandma." Taylor sniffed the air. "I'm hungry," he declared and sat down at the table for his afternoon snack.


	18. Chapter 18

_So, I received a review stating that this story seems like a Hallmark movie. Thank you! And it got me to thinking, "Hmmm...maybe...?" but then I realized that with the way I wrote it, it would never happen. The only people who could portray the characters are the POI actors, and short of my winning the lottery or owning the first house on the moon – that will never happen._

 **Hope Is Born Again**

Taylor took his time brushing his teeth and putting on his pajamas. Since tomorrow was the last day of school for two weeks, he had nowhere to go and nothing to do. Maybe if he could get back to Santa Claus and plead his case, then there might be a chance. But since he couldn't drive, well...there went Plan B.

"Taylor, are you finished brushing your teeth?" Joss asked and knocked on the door.

"Yes."

"You should get ready for bed since you have school in the morning."

"I don't want to go." Taylor opened the door. "There is nothing going on tomorrow but stupid parties."

"We don't say 'stupid', Taylor," Joss reprimanded.

"Well, they are," he groused and looked everywhere but in his mother's eyes.

"You have to go to school; it's the rules."

"Can't I go to work with you?"

"Not possible. I have to go to court in the morning, and Sam isn't well enough to keep an eye on you."

"I won't be any trouble."

Joss sighed. "It's not about being a trouble to me, it's about doing what's required of you." She turned out the bathroom light. "Come on. Let's get to bed."

"I have to feed Shaw."

"I already did that." Joss walked ahead to the bedroom. She pulled back the covers and patted the mattress. "Come on, Taylor."

Taylor dragged his feet. "I'm not tired," he grumbled.

"You think you're not tired, but I'm sure once you get settled, you'll be asleep in no time."

"No, I won't," he replied defiantly.

"Just the same; crawl in."

Taylor reluctantly did as he was told and tried to remain still as Joss pulled the covers up to his chin.

"Can you come tomorrow?" he asked.

"To where?"

"School. The party for homeroom. Can you?"

"What time?"

"Eleven. I think. I know we get out early tomorrow and we're not having lunch in the cafeteria. Please?" he pleaded.

Joss shook her head. "I'd love to, honey, but that's what time I'm due in court."

Taylor kicked his feet. "It's not fair!"

"Maybe next year," Joss soothed and rubbed Taylor's head lovingly.

"There is never a next year, Mom. I'm going to be in junior high, and they never have parties; I know because my friend Shawn's older brother is in junior high, and they don't do nothin'."

"Anything."

Taylor sighed. "Anything. What about Officer Reese?"

Joss hesitated. "What about Officer Reese?" she returned.

"Maybe he can take me?"

"I don't know, T. Maybe you should give him some time to himself. You have been spending every day with him."

"I like him."

"I know you do."

"And he likes me."

"I'm sure he -"

"And you like him, Mom."

"Taylor..."

"Mom..." he whined pathetically. "You like him. He likes you. Tell him you're sorry."

Joss closed her eyes and shook her head sorrowfully. "Taylor, I can't."

"Why?"

"It's complicated."

Taylor made a face. "Why is that always an excuse for not doing the right thing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Remember last year when I punch Joey Allen in the nose and you wanted to know why I did it?"

"Yes."

"And I said that it was complicated?"

"That wasn't an excuse for what you did, Taylor. You hurt him."

"He punched me first and then took my Gameboy."

"That's no excuse."

"And neither is throwing someone out for trying to do the right thing," Taylor countered. "Officer Reese and me just wanted to do something nice for you, but you got angry. It's like you punched him in the nose, Mom."

"Taylor..." What could she say to defend herself?

"Just tell him that you're sorry. And even if you're not sorry, you should tell him what's making you so sad."

"I-"

"I know Dad hurt you in some way and that is why you don't want a tree. But it's not Officer Reese's fault. And it's not my fault, either," he finished. Yawning wide, he closed his eyes. "I'm tired, Mom. I need to sleep."

Joss leaned over and pressed a kiss to Taylor's forehead. "Sweet dreams."

"You too, Mom."

Joss hesitated for a moment before reaching over and turning off the small lamp. Quiet as a mouse, she tip-toed to the door, then turned around to look at her sleeping son. Stepping out in the hallway, she started to close the door, but Shaw mewed.

"You want to go in, eh? Go ahead." Joss let the kitten in, then she closed the door.

"A cup of coffee," she said to herself. "Then I can sit and think about what I should do next."  
*****

"Thanks for the cookies," Lionel said with his mouth full. "And the coffee."

"You're welcome."

"Where did you get them?"

"They were a gift."

Lionel held the bag out. "Want one?"

John cast a glance at the bag then turned his head toward the road. "I'm good. Though, you might want to slow down," he cautioned.

"Pffft! I'm eating for two now, partner."

" _Sam_ is eating for two," John corrected.

"Sympathy cravings." Lionel reached into the bag. "These are good."

"Glad they passed the Lionel Fusco test."

"You've been awfully quiet tonight," Lionel observed.

"It's a quiet night." John looked out of the windshield at the starless night. "Think it's going to snow?"

Lionel looked up. "It's starless, but not a cloud in sight," he observed. "I'm going to say no. Though we could use some." He took another cookie from the bag and bit into it. "Maybe it will put a damper on Drunk Naked Santa."

"He's just trying to bring holiday cheer to the masses," John replied humoursly.

"The drunk tank is going to be named in his honour. Though I want to erect a statue to whoever made these cookies," Lionel praised.

"Joss' mother."

"No kidding? I wonder if I could get her to make a few dozen for Sam. You know, get on her good side."

"Sleeping on the couch?"

"By my choice this time, pal. I wasn't going to play that game with a pregnant woman. Thugs with death wishes, bank robbers, drunk naked Santas...? I can deal with those – piece of cake! - but hormonal, pregnant women? I'll take a pass on that one."

"And you call yourself a cop, Lionel?" John lightly scoffed at his partner's melodrama.

"Pick and choose your battles, my friend. Words of wisdom to live by," Lionel advised. "What about you and Joss? How's that working out?" he threw back.

John shrugged and kept his eyes on the road.

"I'm going to say that it's not. She's not that difficult to talk to – sometimes. Hey, at least she isn't armed."

Quiet settled in and for a long moment neither man spoke.

"It's going to suck – you having to spend Christmas all by yourself."

"Thanks, Lionel, for spreading the holiday cheer."

"I'm trying to help."

"Don't."

"I was just going to say that if you want to come over for Christmas dinner, you have an invitation."

"You cooking?" John sounded skeptical at the idea of Lionel whipping up a holiday meal.

"Uh, no. Since Sam isn't feeling well, I'm going to order in. That bar-be-que place on the other side of town – you know the one? – well, I figured I'd do something different."

"Thanks for the offer."

"Just think about it. Okay?"

"Sure."

The sound of a phone chirping interrupted the mood. John pulled out his phone and looked down quickly.

"Who's it from?" Lionel asked.

"No one."

"Check it. Might be important. Besides, I think my coffee kicked in."

John rolled his eyes and guided the patrol car into the parking lot of the nearest convenient store.

"Make it quick, Lionel," he said and put the car in park. The door slamming was the only response.

Picking up the phone, John tapped the screen.

"New message," he said to himself. Typing in his code, he put the phone to his ear.

" _One new message. To hear this message, press one."_

John pressed and waited.

" _Hello Officer Reese. This is Witt Cray with Big Brothers/Big Sisters. I am calling because there is a function at Taylor Carter's school at 11 am. I know this is short notice, but it would wonderful if you could show up – at least for his sake. If you have any questions, please call me back."_

John pressed end. School function? In the morning?

"Hey! What's the lost look?" Lionel asked as he got in the car. "Here, I got this for you." He handed over a large cup of coffee. "Wow! It's getting cold out there." He nodded at the phone in John's hand. "Bad news?"

"No. No. I just found out that I have an appointment in the morning." John turned off the phone and placed it back in his coat pocket.

"Good luck with that."

"Yeah." John brought the cup to his lips. "I think I'm going to need it."

"Let's make another round and then get lunch. My treat."

John put the car in drive. "Your treat? Maybe this is the season of miracles after all," John quipped.

"Don't get too used to it."

"Don't worry, Lionel. That won't happen."


	19. Chapter 19

**Hope Is Born Again**

"Hi, Joss," Samantha greeted as she walked in to the office and took her coat off.

Joss looked up from shoving file folders into her briefcase. "Sam! What are you doing here? I thought you were going to take the day off?"

Although she was pale, Samantha's smile was bright. "I was, but I realized that I was leaving you holding the bag."

"How's the morning sickness?"

"I stopped by the convenient store and bought myself a six-pack of cherry Coke. I remember reading somewhere that it helps to settle the stomach." Samantha took the drinks out of the plastic bag. "It can't hurt to try."

"Oyster crackers worked for me. Except I wasn't sick," Joss confessed. "I only had nausea. Which I think is worse."

"Right now that would be a reprieve."

"Old wives' tale says: The worse the morning sickness, the healthier the pregnancy."

"Then this baby is going to be coming out benching pressing horses," Samantha joked. "At least Lionel isn't suffering too badly. Although he's already eating for two. Lucky him." She popped the tab on the can and took a long sip. "Which reminds me that I need to thank your mother for the cookies."

Joss frowned. "Cookies? How? When?"

"Seems when John took Taylor over to her place yesterday, she gave him a bag to give to Lionel."

"Did you get any?"

"Two. And some crumbs," Samantha gave a short laugh.

"Wow! How'd that go?" Joss asked.

"Believe it or not, they stayed down," Samantha replied with amazement. "Your mother must have the magic touch when it comes to baking. I'll take anything that works."

"Well, I'll see if I can get you some more."

Samantha grinned and took her seat. "I would love that. But I'll have to hide them from Lionel."

"I think we can work something out."

"What time is your court case?"

"Eleven," Joss grumbled. "I should be with Taylor... I wish I could be with Taylor, but..."

"Isn't John going to be there?"

Joss shook her head. "No. I don't even think he knows about Taylor's party."

"So, you haven't talked to him?"

"No."

"Joss."

"I will when the time is right."

"I guess so." Samantha turned on her computer and waited for it to boot up, but she maintained her silence.

Joss looked at her watch. "I guess I'd better get on my way."

"Good luck."

"Thanks, but not needed. It's the Sullivan case. Slam dunk. I should be back by two or -" Joss was interrupted by the beeping of the phone intercom.

"Excuse me. Joss?" Sara's voice cam over the line. "There is a call for you on line one."

"Can you take a message, Sara? I'm on my way to the courthouse." Joss walked over to the coat tree and took down her coat.

"It's the court bailiff on the line."

Joss and Samantha shared a look. "Uh, send it through, Sara." Pressing the corresponding number, Joss picked up the receiver. "Joss Carter speaking." She waited as the person on the other end spoke quickly. "I see...and when will court be back in session? Uh huh. Okay. Monday? Alright. Thank you." She hung up the receiver.

"What was that about?" Samantha wondered with a puzzled look.

"Court's cancelled."

"It's what?"

Joss shook her head in disbelief. "Cancelled. Seems the judge and stenographer and the defense attorney all have the flu."

"No way!"

"Way. They are fumigating the court room today, and they don't expect to resume anything until Monday. So, we have a reprieve." Joss wrapped the scarf around her neck. "If I rush, I should be able to make it to Taylor's school."

"I can hold the fort down," Samantha offered her assistance.

"Are you sure?"

"Go! Be with Taylor!" Samantha ordered and pointed toward the door.

"Thanks, Sam." Joss grabbed her purse and keys and ran out of the office.

"Merry Christmas, Joss."  
*****

With his styrofoam plate of potato chips, finger sandwich, piece of chocolate cake and two Santa cookies, Taylor sat in the corner of his homeroom and tried to will himself to disappear. Sure, he thought to himself, there were other kids whose parents hadn't shown up for the party, but when Judge Gates had walked thru the door, Taylor fought the urge to cry. Deep down inside he prayed for a blizzard to hit so school could be closed earlier than planned. Or maybe the floor to open up. Either way, he would be happy.

"Hello, Taylor," Harold Finch greeted. Twirling his chip on the plate, Taylor kept his eyes downcast. "Why are you sitting by yourself?"

"I just want to be alone." There was a hollowness to Taylor's voice that spoke volumes.

"I see." Harold looked around the room. "Where is your mother?"

"She had to work, so she couldn't come," Taylor said, trying to keep his voice even so he wouldn't start crying.

"Sometimes that happens," Harold comforted. "Have you made a wish?"

Taylor cocked his head. "A wish? What for?" He gave his teacher an _"is this guy for real?"_ look.

"You might be surprised. Close your eyes. Now wish from the heart."

Doing as he was told, Taylor silently made the wish he truly longed for more than anything.  
****

On the left side of the building, John hurried up the staircase, taking the steps two at a time, and hoped that he wasn't too late. What should have been a couple of hours for a nap went over when his alarm failed to sound. Looking at his watch, he cursed under his breath and put more speed into his legs.

"I'm sorry, Taylor," he panted. He would make it up to the boy – one way or the other – if it was the last thing he did.  
******

Joss hurried up the stairs on the other side of the building and cursed herself for wearing the heeled boots. She was half tempted to take them off, then she realized that kids in tennis shoes walked across the tiled floor,

Looking at her watch, she wondered how she could be so late when the school was only a mile away from her building. Between a disabled traffic light and unreported road construction, Joss was surprised that she made it to the school with her sanity intact.

Stepping on to the landing, she tried to ignore her screaming arches as she looked at her watch. There was still time before school was let go for the day, she realized and put more speed into her legs. The click-clack of her heels on the tile echoed down the hall as she ran as fast as she dared.

Reaching the door of the classroom, Joss touched the handle and gave it a turn. Then she froze as a hand grabbed hers. Looking up in surprise, her eyes met those of John.

"John, what are you doing here?" she gasped, trying to catch her breath. Her heart made a weird kind of flutter when his hand touched hers. But she didn't move it away.

"We'll talk about it later, Joss. Let's go inside," he replied and tried to will his heart rate to slow down. But her perfume was weaving around him and teasing him, and he felt his stomach begin to do a weird kind of somersault.

With a smile, Joss turned the handle and opened the door. As she started to walk in, John grabbed her hand, and they walked in together.  
****

"I can't believe you both made it," Taylor chortled with delight as he held his mother's hand and skipped alongside her down the pathway to the car. "I thought I was going to be by myself, but my wish came true!"

"I'm glad I did," Joss said and felt her heart open wide with love.

"I thought you had to go to court," Taylor said.

"It got cancelled. Seems everyone came down with the flu." Joss looked at John. "What are you doing here?"

"I received a voice mail last night from the director of Big Brothers asking that I show up."

"That's strange..." Joss murmured.

"Why didn't you tell me about your party, Sport?" John asked Taylor.

"I didn't think you'd want to come," Taylor admitted, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk.

John put his hand on Taylor's shoulder. "Hey, Taylor. Look at me, son." He waited for Taylor to lift his head. "I'm your Big Brother and my job is to help you, okay?"

"Okay."

"No matter what."

"No matter what. What about Mom?"

"And her too. Whenever she needs it." John shared a look with Joss who quickly looked away.

"I'm sorry for letting you down, Taylor," Joss apologized sincerely. "This was my fault. I hope you can forgive me."

"We...ell... Can we go see Santa?" Taylor's eyes shone bright with hope.

"Again?" Joss asked in surprise at the request. "Why?"

"I need to follow up on my request; I think he's dropping the ball."

"Wait! 'Follow up' and 'dropping the ball'...?" Joss blinked. "Who are you? How old are you? And what did you do with my son Taylor?"

Taylor giggled. "That's funny, Mom. I'm ten, you know that."

"I don't know..."

"You said you wanted to make it up to me," Taylor said.

"You are going to be a lawyer, T." Joss looked at John and tried to will her heart from beating so fast she thought it might jump out of her chest. "What about you, John? Wanna go? Maybe sit on Santa's lap?" she teasingly offered.

John smiled. "I'm good. I need to get home and sleep for my shift. It's been a long week. Convenient store robbery early this morning."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"At least it wasn't drunk Santa."

"I guess you take the good where you can get it."

"Yes."

A gust of wind suddenly came out of nowhere and pulled the construction paper from Taylor's hands and blew it into the school yard.

"Hey!" Taylor called out as he ran after the paper. "Come back here!"

"Taylor!" Joss called after him. She moved to follow her son, but John caught her arm.

"He'll be okay, Joss. Joss..."

"What is it, John?"

"I think we need to talk."

"I think we do," she admitted. "Tonight?"

"My mid shift ends on Sunday night, so maybe we can talk Monday night. You know the little bridge in the park?"

"By Murphy's Station?"

John nodded. "That one. Say...eight o'clock? Unless you can't find anyone to watch Taylor. I know with school being out..."

"My mother is going to watch him while I'm at work. So I'll be there at eight."

John gave her a look full of longing. "I'll see you then."

Returning back to where John and Joss stood, Taylor looked from one to the other. "What's wrong?" he asked suspiciously.

"Nothing, Taylor," John assured him. "I need to go."

"But...you can come with us to the mall and then we'll have dinner," Taylor offered up the invite to keep his friend from leaving.

"I'd love to, but I'm really tired." John rubbed Taylor's head affectionately. "I'll be by tomorrow to pick you up. Maybe we can play catch."

"Cool." Wrapping his arms around John's waist, Taylor hugged him tight. John returned the embrace.

"Taylor, I think you can let him go," Joss said.

"Bye."

"Bye, Taylor." John walked quickly to the car but turned around to wave Taylor and Joss.

"Let's go, T. Maybe we can hit the mall before it gets too busy." Joss walked around to the driver's side and pulled open the door.

"Santa's got some explaining to do," Taylor muttered under his breath.

Joss looked at her son. "What was that?"

Taylor yanked open his door and got inside. "Nothing, Mom. Let's go." He fastened his seat belt as Joss started the car and put it in drive.


	20. Chapter 20

_Thanks for all the reviews. I'm writing as fast as I can!_

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

Taking a deep breath, Taylor approached Santa.

"Well, hello, young man," Santa greeted in a jolly tone. He patted his lap invitingly. "Come sit down." He waited for Taylor to get settled. "What can I do for you?"

Taylor looked at the fat, bearded man. "Do you remember me?" he asked.

Stunned by the question, Santa paused. "Well...I..."

"I was here last Saturday and I gave you a letter."

Recovering quickly, Santa smiled and replied, "Yes. Yes, you did."

"Then what's taking so long?"

"Pardon me?"

"My Christmas wish. What's taking so long? Christmas is less than a week away and nothing is happening," Taylor demanded angrily. "I don't think you're Santa."

"Well..."

"If it's too much for you, then I'll take back my wish and you can get me a puppy."

"Well, let's not make any rash decisions," Santa soothed. He patted his lap. "Sit down. Tell me what is happening."

Taylor did as he was told. "Nothing is happening. Okay, I mean, something has happened," he confessed.

Santa appeared surprised. "Oh?"

"My mom met someone. He's a nice guy – a cop – and I think he likes her too."

Santa rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So, what is the problem?"

Taylor raised up his hands in frustration. "Everything! We bought a tree – okay, so Mom said I couldn't have one - but I thought she might change her mind if she saw it." He shook his head sorrowfully. "She didn't. Then they had a fight."

"I see."

"And they seemed to make up for a minute, but they still aren't talking to one another. I told them to get over it, but they aren't. Look, Santa, I know I'm only ten, but I know about love," Taylor stated confidently. "They _are_ in love. But..." He put his hand over his mouth to block anyone from hearing what he had to say. "Just between us, Santa, I think they are acting like two-year olds."

"That a serious accusation."

"It's true," Taylor stated confidently.

Santa shifted in his large, decorated throne. "Well...what would you like me to do?"

"Get them together!"

"Wouldn't you much rather have a train or an I-Pad?" Santa suggested an alternative.

"Trains aren't as cool as dads."

"Hmm. I see." Santa seemed to give deep thought about what Taylor had said. "Well, Taylor, I'll tell you what: Don't lose your faith." Santa tapped Taylor's breastbone with his forefinger. "Keep that love in your heart."

"But..."

"Do you believe in wishes?"

Taylor nodded carefully. "I do."

"Tonight before you go to bed, wish on the biggest star. And keep wishing every night."

Taylor shot him a skeptical look. "And I will get my Christmas wish?"

"I promise it will come true by Christmas Eve."

"Cross your heart."

Santa made the motion. "Here you go." He reached toward the bucket of candy canes and handed three to the boy.

"I'm holding you to it, Santa," Taylor warned as the took the candy and slid off Santa's lap.

"As you should. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Santa." Turning on his heel, Taylor walked away, but there was no speed in his steps. As far as he was concerned, all hope was lost – or pretty close to it. _Maybe I should have gone with the train,_ he thought to himself and dropped his shoulders in defeat. An action that was not lost on the man in the red suit.  
**********

"I don't understand this whole Santa thing," Taylor grumbled as he stirred the dough mixture in the bowl. Usually he didn't mind baking with his grandma, but today he had other things on his mind that didn't include desserts.

"Whole 'Santa thing'?" Mila repeated and raised her eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Taylor sighed. "Nothing. Is this done?" he asked. "My arm hurts."

"Another couple of minutes and it should be ready." She unwrapped the stick of butter, placed it in a bowl and put it in the microwave. Setting the timer, she stood back and waited.

"But I thought cookies were supposed to be lumpy."

Mila looked offended. "Not my cookies, young man. Just keep stirring. Now tell me what is going on with you and Santa." The bell went off, and she took the bowl from the microwave and carried it to the table.

"You're going to laugh."

"I'm not going to laugh," she assured him.

"It's stupid."

"Taylor..."

He sighed. "I know. But it is."

"Tell me what you did."

Taylor stopped stirring. "I may have written a letter to Santa asking for a new dad."

Mila mulled over her grandson's confession. "Oh."

"And...I may gone back to him and pleaded my case," he confessed sadly.

"How many times?"

"Twice."

"I see."

"I wanted to make sure that he knew how serious it is."

"And does he?"

Taylor shrugged. "I don't know."

"Well... Hmm..."

Taylor looked fearfully at his grandmother. "Are you angry?"

"Angry? At you?" Mila was startled by Taylor's question. "Why would I be angry?"

"I don't know. I just wanted Mom to be happy again."

"Nothing wrong with that."

"And then she met Officer Reese...and I thought that they might...you know..." he trailed off without finishing his thought.

"Fall in love?" Mila supplied. Taylor shrugged. "I see. And you think you did something wrong?"

"I did!"

"How?"

"I got the tree. I know that Mom said no trees, but I thought since she and Officer Reese kissed, that she might change her mind," Taylor said as passionately as only a ten year old could.

Mila's eyes widened with the revelation. "They kissed?"

"Oh. I guess that was supposed to be a secret." Ashamed at letting the cat out of the bag, Taylor looked down and kicked his foot.

"I didn't know that. Although I'm sure you had something to do with it,"

"Maybe..." he evaded.

"Taylor. This is Grandma you're talking to," she said and crossed her arms over her breasts. "You can't dodge me, young man. Now tell me everything, or no cookies and fudge."

Taylor groaned a little before giving in. "I put some mistletoe up," he confessed. "In the doorway."

Mila tried to hide the smile that was tugging at her lips. "Hmmm...that changes everything."

"Yeah. Now they hate each other."

"Taylor, I don't think..."

"They do, Grandma. They tried to be nice to each other yesterday, but I can tell. And it's all my fault."

"And that is why you went to see Santa Claus for the second time?" she asked.

"Not exactly."

"Talk to me, Taylor. What did you tell him?"

"I told him that I wanted to take back my Christmas wish and that I would rather have a puppy."

Mila's face softened at the sweet innocence of youth. "You don't want them to fall in love?" she asked.

"I do, but not if they hate each other."

"Do you like Officer Reese?" Mila asked seriously.

Taylor nodded. "I do. He's really nice, Grandma. He can play sports, and he always has time for me. I don't get on his nerves."

"That's very important," Mila agreed. "And does he like you?"

"He didn't say that he didn't," Taylor offered hopefully.

"What did Santa say when you told him that you changed your mind?"

"He told me to keep to keep believing." Taylor hung his head in defeat. "I don't know if I can, Grandma."

Mila opened her arms. "Come here," she invited. Wrapping her arms around Taylor, she held him close. "Shhh..." she comforted, rocking him gently. "All's not lost."

"Yes, it is, Grandma."

"What exactly did Santa tell you?"

"He told me to keep the faith and wish on stars. If I do that, my wish will come true on Christmas Eve."

"It's not Christmas, yet," she pointed out. "Give it a chance and you might be surprised." Patting his back lovingly, she pulled back to look at him. "Let's get these cookies baked, then we'll go shopping for Christmas dinner, okay?"

"I guess."

Mila crooked a finger under Taylor's chin to bring his eyes up to hers. "One step at a time. Now get me the baking sheet from under the counter," she directed to change the subject.

Taylor did as he was told, but he still wondered what he could do to get Officer Reese and his mother together.

 _There has to be a way,_ he thought to himself. _There just has to be!_


	21. Chapter 21

_As we close out another year, let us take moment to remember the good and the bad; the happy and the sad. And let us remember that no matter how dark it may seem, the promise of starting fresh with a do-over is no more than a dawn's break away. May God bless all of you in the New Year, and may all your wishes come true._

 _P.s. Fanfiction isn't posting reviews to chapters, but I have gotten the email notifications. Thank you._

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

It was cold enough for snow, but the ground was clear. And although the nip in the air was teasing, not a cloud was in the sky. It was going to be a Christmas without snow. But that wasn't what Joss was thinking as she huddled deeper in her coat and hurried across the frozen ground of the park.

She had been a little late getting out of the office, and then her car hadn't started. Add in that the kitten got sick and Taylor was grouchy – all of this happening four days before Christmas - well, it would have been no surprise had she almost called off meeting John for their talk. But then the logical part of her won out by arguing that she _had_ promised to talk to him, so it wouldn't be fair to break a promise. Why did logic have to be so logical?

Walking up on to the wooden bridge, she looked around for John. She frowned and looked at her watch. Two minutes past eight.

"Where are you?" she whispered.

"Hi, Joss," John's voice came out of the darkness.

Joss gasped in surprise and spun around. "John! You scared me to death! What are you doing hiding in the shadows?" She tried to catch her breath.

"Waiting for you." John stepped forward. "I didn't think you were going to make it."

"I almost changed my mind," she confessed.

"What stopped you?"

"I made you a promise."

"I see. I almost change my mind, too."

"Oh."

"But I felt that I owed you the truth. So here I am."

Joss tried to smile reassuringly at the coincidence, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Well, this is awkward." She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "So...where do we start?"

"How's Taylor?" John asked.

"Not himself."

"I'm sorry."

"I think it goes deeper than you not going to visit Santa on Friday, but he's not talking to me." Joss sighed. "There was nothing about this in the 'What To Expect' books."

"I know it has to be hard."

"Eh. Well...if parenting were easy, there wouldn't be three sections dedicated to it at the local Barnes and Noble," she replied tongue in cheek.

"True," he agreed.

"He's hurting. A lot."

"I know. That's why I want us to talk."

"What do you want to talk about, John?" Joss asked.

"Us."

"Anything?"

"It's all on the table, Joss."

"Jessica."

"What do you want to know?"

"Who was she and how did she die?" Joss asked.

"You didn't investigate?"

"I thought about it," Joss admitted. "I even got as close as hovering the cursor over her name when I found it on line, but..."

"But, what?"

"I couldn't. I could have and you wouldn't have known, but I felt that I owed myself to hear it from you."

Pausing long enough to find a way to put his thoughts into words, John answered: "Jessica was the love of my life, and the woman I let get away. She was beautiful and funny and she said that I made her feel special. We met while I was a cop in the big city. She was a nurse, but her goal was to be a doctor. And I'm sure that with time, she would have achieved her dream."

"What happened?" Joss asked softly.

"We were engaged to be married. And we – um – we were just about to be settled into our life together when I received my transfer to here. I thought she might be happy for me, but..."

"She wasn't."

"No." John rested his forearms on the railing of the bridge. "She didn't want to move. I tried to explain to her that I needed to get away from the noise and traffic, but she thought I could work through it with therapy."

"PTSD?"

John closed his eyes. "Yeah. Not as bad as some of the guys I served with, but it was messing with me. The doctor that I saw said that if I wanted to remain a cop, then I needed to move to quieter and less stressful surroundings."

"And she didn't understand that?"

"Maybe she thought I could work through it – and maybe she was right – but I... All I could see was my career ending and not having anywhere else to go. Being a cop is all I ever wanted to be. Helping people, taking care of situations and problems..."

"Writing parking tickets," Joss joked lightly.

"Those too. Since I was a kid, all I wanted to do was be in the military and be a cop. I tried to explain to her that we could give it a chance, but she said no. I came down here to check things out, and I fell in love – like I came home for the first time in my life. I tried to tell her how I felt, but she wanted me to choose: Her or here."

"And you chose here."

John nodded slowly. "I did. God help me, but I chose this town over her."

"So, what happened?"

"She came down here a couple of times – maybe to clear her conscience or to try and acclimate – I don't know – but it didn't work out. We fought all of the time. She accused me of being selfish. Maybe I was. The last time I saw her, she told me that she had fallen in love with someone new – Peter Arndt was his name – a doctor – a heart surgeon, in fact - and they were going to be married. I guess she wanted me to fight for her, but I wanted to stay here. She left."

The wind blew softly and the rustling of the branches on the barren trees was the only sound for a long time.

"There was an accident on the highway. You may have heard of it: A tractor-trailer over corrected and jack-knifed on the highway during a winter storm five years ago."

"Seven people were killed and traffic was backed up for almost twelve hours," Joss recalled.

"That was the one." Lost in memories, John didn't feel Joss' hand cover his and give a squeeze. "Jessica and Peter were coming back from their honeymoon when they found themselves in the middle of the accident. Jessica – being the person she was – jumped out of the car and ran to help the injured. Peter said that he didn't even know what she was doing until it was too late. Without thinking, Jessica ran into the road...and directly in front of a car."

"I'm so sorry, John," Joss whispered, her voice choked with tears.

"The driver was distracted and didn't realize that the traffic had stopped for an accident until it was too late. Jessica..." John's voice trembled "...she never felt it. Or, that is what the report says. She died instantly."

"And her husband?" Joss wondered.

"He quit his job and went to work with Doctors Without Borders. Last I heard, he was working at some hole in the wall clinic in Mexico." John shrugged indifferently.

"And you think this is your fault?"

"I couldn't give her what she wanted."

"I think it's the other way around," Joss reasoned logically. "If she loved you as much as you loved her a compromise could have been reached, I think. She wanted you to be something you weren't, and you wanted her to love you for who you are – PTSD and all."

"I let her get away; I sent her to New York where she was killed," John argued. "I could live with her being happy and being married to another man. I could even handle her having children and never giving me another thought, but...I never got to tell her I was sorry."

"I know how you feel," Joss empathized.

"Paul?"

"Yeah. I don't know what you've heard, but it wasn't all rainbows and unicorns; we had our ups and downs." Joss gave a mirthless little laugh. "When they say 'for better or for worse', they know what they are talking about." She leaned down to join John.

"You couldn't leave here to be with Jessica when she needed you, and I wouldn't leave here when Paul needed me," Joss confessed. "He received his orders to Hawai'i – three years – and he wanted me and Taylor to accompany him."

"And you couldn't? Why?"

"My dad had just died and my mother was beside herself with grief...and there were so many legal and financial issues and loose ends I had to tie up. I tried to explain to Paul that I needed a little more time, but he wanted us out there. I know I should have gone, but I was being stubborn."

"Our weakness."

"Yeah. Mother told me that I needed to meet him halfway, so I told Paul that if he came home for Christmas, I would join him in Hawai'i."

"And he was driving home from...where?" John asked.

"San Antonio. He had just finished up another K-9 training, so he decided to take his two weeks and be with us."

"What does it have to do with a Christmas Tree, Joss?"

Joss looked up and tried to keep the tears at bay, but they still fell.

"We always got the tree together – like Taylor said, it was tradition. But I was driving home and I passed by the tree lot and saw the most magnificent Evergreen; it was as though it had come from a Norman Rockwell painting," Joss whispered. "I had to get it. I brought it home and decorated it. I thought I would surprise Paul."

"But...?"

"Taylor – God bless him – let the cat out of the bag." Joss shook her head. "I don't blame him," she hastily corrected. "Out of the mouth of babes."

"Paul didn't take it well?"

"That's an understatement. He accused me of going behind his back, and of using my dad's death to push him away. And..." her voice trailed off.

"And what, Joss?" John asked softly. He crooked his finger under Joss' chin. "What did he say?"

"He accused me of having an affair. I told him that I wasn't, but he laughed. He said that there couldn't possibly be anything else here that I would stay for. I got angry and told him to go to Hawai'i without us. He got angry and said that he was coming out here to take us with him – come hell or high water. I told him that if he didn't take back what he said, I would file for divorce."

Joss bowed her head. "He was driving too fast. They say he wasn't and that it was black ice, but I know Paul; he was trying to get here to stop me from going to the courthouse on that following Monday." She wept openly. "I always wonder what would have happened if I hadn't gotten the tree. Or if I had gone with him to Hawai'i. I never got a chance to tell him that I was sorry."

"And that is why you say no to the trees?"

Joss nodded. "Yes. I try to move on, but it's..."

"Too hard," John finished. And he knew that feeling – probably better than anyone else.

"I know." Joss looked at John's face. There was a look in his eyes that frightened her. "What's wrong?"

"All of this. I was hoping that you and I would be..."

"Something special?"

"Exactly. I don't know. We cleared the air, and we're still no closer to healing our wounds. I don't think you're over Paul," John told her. "Just like I don't think I'm over Jessica."

"What are you saying, John?" Joss searched his eyes for answers that weren't coming.

"I think... It's not going to work, Joss. You and me."

"It could," she reasoned. "I think."

"Do you still love Paul?"

"I don't know."

"But you blame yourself for his death."

"Just like you do for Jessica."

John cupped her cheek. "Looks as though we're caught in limbo. I need to go, Joss. I need to figure some things out."

"John, no... Don't go." Blinded by tears, she reached out and tried to grab his arm, but missed.

"I can't stay. I love you Joss." And then he turned on his heel and walked away.


	22. Chapter 22

_Since this is a Christmas story, I decided to keep it pretty much G-rated. As much as I wanted to have the next scene take place in a pub, unfortunately Lionel was too busy stuffing his face with vanilla cream pancakes and I couldn't drag him away. So I decided to have the conversation take place in a cafe. As always, he is the voice of reason._

 _P.s. I can't explain why fanfic is saying that there are reviews but isn't posting any of them. Not the first glitch they've had, but hopefully it will be back to normal soon. However, I am receiving your kind words via email, and cherishing them all. Thank you!_

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

The coffee tasted like tar, but John didn't care. It was cheap and hot, and he was tucked far away from the hustle and bustle out on the street, so he didn't mind getting wired for sound.

"Another pot?" the waitress asked.

John didn't bother to look up. "Yeah." In his hands he held a serviette. He began twisting it.

"You know, you're hitting that stuff pretty hard; perhaps you should have a slice of pie?" the waitress suggested. "Mary just took a fresh one from the oven. I'm sure she'll let you have a slice on the house."

"I'm good, Cherrille."

Cherrille took the empty pot. "Okay. But if you change your mind..." She gave John a smile before turning on her heel.

John slowly began to rip pieces off the serviette. It didn't make him feel any better, but it did give him something to do with his hands.

"Hey, Superman!" Lionel greeted enthusiastically as he walked up to the corner booth. "Funny meeting you here."

"Hello Lionel."

"Mind if I sit down?" Lionel asked and took the bench opposite John. "So, what's good here?"

"Not going to work, Lionel."

Lionel looked stupefied by the comment. "What isn't going to work?"

"Asking me what's good so you can have a reason to join me."

"Just making polite conversation."

"I didn't say you could sit there."

"Oh, well. I'm here now."

"You're chipper."

"I'm hungry." Lionel raised his hand. "Waitress!" he called out. Cherrille hurried over.

"Can I get you a menu," she asked.

"Nah. I'm good. What's he having?" Lionel nodded toward John.

"Nothing but coffee."

Lionel grimaced. "Eh. I think I'll start off with breakfast. You might want to write this down, sweetheart," he suggested. "I want four sausage links – not those little bitty ones – the nice size breakfast ones. Four slices of bacon – crispy but not brittle. Eggs over-easy. Hash browns – crispy on both sides with cheese and onions, a stack of vanilla cream pancakes – extra butter on the side. A carafe of orange juice and a cup of coffee," he listed off quickly. "You got that?"

Cherrille wrote quickly. "Got it. Anything else?"

"Chocolate donut for him."

"Coming up." Cherrille left the two men to be alone so she could submit the order.

"That stuff's going to kill you, Lionel."

"I'm eating for two."

"There is going to be two of you by the time that baby arrives," John quipped.

"I get hungry; so sue me." The coffee arrived. Lionel took his time adding the sugar and cream. "What brings you to this hole in the wall?"

"I wanted to be alone."

"Makes sense." Lionel took a sip of the coffee. "Mmmm! Now that's what I call coffee!" He licked his lips. "We should get this down at the station house."

"Will definitely keep everyone running, that's for sure," John mumbled.

"Well, aren't you are ray of sunshine today," Lionel observed.

"I wanted to be alone." John paused. "That's a hint, Lionel."

"Love to, but I have breakfast coming." Lionel leaned forward. "So, what's got you down in the dumps, my friend?"

John fiddled with the serviette. "Nothing."

"Pfft! For a great cop, you make a lousy liar. I know that you talked to Joss last night; what happened?"

"What makes you think something happened?" John deflected.

"Ah. You want to play 'cat and mouse'. Okay, wise guy, two can play that game. I know that you didn't resolve anything – in fact, I'm going to guess you made things worse – because you are sitting here drinking coffee in the corner of a cafe. So, spill it."

"Nothing to spill. Joss and I talked about our past. That's all."

"Buddy, that ain't all. I saw Joss this morning when I stopped by the office to drop off some paperwork for Sam; she looks horrible. Probably spent the whole night crying," Lionel continued. "Can't imagine over who...oh, wait! She was crying over you."

"Lionel..."

"And now I'm sitting across from you, and you look like the Romeo to her Juliet."

"You do remember how that ended, don't you?" John asked.

"All a matter of perspective, pal. They ended up that way because they jumped to conclusions and they didn't have great friends wanting to see them succeed."

"And you're that friend."

"I'm your pal and partner. And yeah," Lionel admitted, "I'm your friend."

"Don't worry, Lionel, I'm not going to drink a bottle of poison."

"No. No, you're just going to sit and drink cold coffee. Let me help. What did you do?"

"Lionel, I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay." Lionel reached into his coat and pulled out his phone. "I'll just call Sam. She's been a little cranky lately – what from lack of eating and drinking nothing but Cherry Coke – so I'm sure she'd love to talk to you."

John held up his hands in surrender. "Okay. Put the phone away. We're not going to see each other again," he confessed.

"Wait! What?" Lionel shook his head in disbelief. "Did I hear you correctly? Did you just say you aren't going to see her again? Why?"

"It's not going to work."

"You two were working like magic. And she was trusting her kid with you. I don't understand."

"It's difficult to explain."

"No, from where I'm sitting, it's pretty easy. This is about Jessica."

John sighed and closed his eyes. "Lionel."

"Don't 'Lionel' me; this is about her and how she hurt you. Now you don't feel that you're worthy enough to be loved by someone as wonderful as Joss Carter."

The pancakes were delivered, but Lionel didn't touch them. He kept his eyes focused on John.

"Or maybe you think she doesn't deserve to be loved by someone like you," Lionel finished. John shifted uncomfortably in the seat. "That's it. You're a funny guy."

"You don't understand, Lionel."

"Oh, I understand perfectly. In the spirit of Christmas, you've decided to be a Grinch." Lionel scrutinized John closely. "Hmm...come to think of it, you do resemble him. Pointy ears, beady eyes...a heart two sizes too small."

Lionel picked up the fork and studied it.

"You know what your problem is, John?"

"I -"

"You have a martyr's complex. Jessica made her decision and it didn't include you. Yeah, it hurts – shoot, I wasn't even dating her, and it would have hurt me. But you have to rise above that and move on. She didn't love you."

"I think -"

"Don't think, John. Listen. Do you know why they have divorce lawyers? Because people don't get along. Somewhere along the way – one or both – someone stopped loving the other. No fault. Fault. Mutual. That's the way it works. And when that happens, we get a second chance at a do-over. Joss Carter is your do-over."

"It's not that simple."

"It _is_ that simple. You love her. She loves you. If it got any simpler the two of you would be carried away on white unicorns over rainbows."

The rest of Lionel's order was delivered.

"She still loves Paul."

"We...ell, that makes all the difference. And she told you this?" Lionel asked.

"Not in so many words. The tree...the guilt... I know how she feels."

"That changes everything. You can live your whole life without seeing her again?" Lionel wondered. John shrugged. "Okay. Think you can live your whole life without seeing Taylor again? Because if you cut her out of your life, you're cutting him. It's a package deal. All or nothing."

"It will be easier for both of them," John replied, but his voice was hollow. His eyes – stark with pain and the possibility of a lifetime of loneliness ahead – looked into Lionel's, then looked away.

Unsure how to respond, Lionel spread the butter on the pancakes before drowning them in syrup. He cut a triangle portion and forked it into his mouth. Slowly he chewed it before swallowing.

"I stand by your decision. I can't change your mind."

"I need to go, Lionel," John excused himself and stood up. He reached for his wallet. "Here..."

Lionel waved his offer away. "I got it." He pushed the plate with a donut toward John. "Here. Before you leave, eat this. You might as well build up your energy before you break a young kid's heart."

Unable to come up with a response, John turned on his heel and started to walk away. Then he stopped and turned back. Sitting back down, he picked up the donut and examined it with disinterest.

"Say I want her back, Lionel. Where do I start?"

With a silly kool-aid grin on his face, Lionel pushed the glass of orange juice toward John. "That's what I want to hear. As for where you start... You start with good-bye."


	23. Chapter 23

_Mila has a thing or two - or ten - to say to her daughter._

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

"You didn't tell me that you kissed Officer Reese," Mila remarked casually while she poured the coffee into the china cups.

Startled, Joss looked up, her eyes wide. "I...what?"

"Did you or didn't you?" Mila set the coffee pot down. Picking up the spoon near the saucer, she carefully measured out the sugar, then added the cream. Keeping her eyes on her daughter, she slowly stirred.

"I..." Joss tried to find words – or any word, for that matter – to refute what her mother accused her of doing.

"I know that you did, dear, so you can't deny it."

"How did you find out?" Joss finally asked.

"Mothers know everything; it's programmed in our DNA so our children will never get the better of us," Mila replied with just a touch of knowing satisfaction in her tone.

"Sure." Joss added the cream to her coffee and sipped without bothering to stir.

"Is that why you won't talk to him?"

"What?"

"There must be some reason you don't want to talk to him. I refuse to believe it's over something as ridiculous as a tree, so... I'm guessing it has to do with kissing him," Mila surmised.

"Was I adopted?" Joss asked out of the blue.

"Why would you ask that?"

"Because I obviously didn't inherit my interrogation skills from you," Joss replied tongue in cheek.

"Jocelyn, sometimes it's just easier to grab the bull by the horns than to dance around the subject – something you seem to do very well."

"Mother..." Joss set her cup down. "If you want to know: I kissed him. He kissed me. I liked it. He's a great kisser. Yes, it did have something to do with the tree. No, I don't plan on keeping it -"

"You still have the tree?" Mila asked in surprise at the news.

"Well... Y-yes," Joss stammered.

"Why?"

"Because..." Joss tried to think of a logical reason for not having thrown out the tree, but she was coming up short. Besides, anything – including the truth – would not be satisfactory when it came to her mother, so she didn't try.

"He got to you."

"Mother."

Mila tilted her head and replied back in a mocking tone, "Jocelyn."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

Mila raised her eyebrow. "Oh? I don't? So, you think your dad and I were chess partners for thirty years?"

Embarrassed by the remark, Joss shifted uncomfortably and lowered her eyes. "Mother, that's not what I meant!"

"And those boxes of old Valentines and the ring on my finger is just for show?" Mila continued with a haughty air. "Someone made a bunch of money off of a non-romance."

"Why do you do this to me, Mother?" Joss wondered.

"I'm doing nothing but pointing out the sad fact that you aren't the only one who loved and lost in their lifetime, Jocelyn. And you aren't the only one who made mistakes in a relationship. Your dad and I had our share of ups and down, and there are a million things I wish I could take back or change."

"I know..."

"You don't know. And that is why you are going to let John walk out of your life without so much as a backwards glance."

"What do you recommend that I do?" Joss returned.

"Go to him. Tell him that you love him. Spend the rest of your life with him. Let him take care of you and treat you the way a woman should be treated."

"I don't know."

"You did your best with Paul. All things considered, you should give yourself a pat on the back."

"Mother -"

Mila held up her finger to silence Joss' protest. "You made mistakes. Paul made mistakes. But you have paid them back in thousandfold by the way you have raised your son. Taylor loves you, and all he wants is for you to be happy. You deserve it." She covered Joss' hand with hers. "Go after your happiness, Joss."

"He's in love with another woman," Joss admitted sadly.

Mila blinked in surprise. "He's what?"

"Her name was Jessica and she was a nurse. She was killed in an accident five years ago. John was engaged to her."

"The accident on the highway outside of New York?" Mila asked.

Joss nodded. "That one. Yes. You know about it?"

"Everyone knew about it. It was so sad that the young nurse returned back from her honeymoon only to be struck down."

"How do I miss all of this?"

"You were busy, dear," Mila comforted. "I would never have put two and two together if you hadn't mentioned it. But she's dead, and you're not. I'm sure that John knows that."

"What he knows and what he does are two different things. He also told me that it would never work out."

Mila's eyes narrowed. "When did he say that?"

"Monday night. We talked," Joss informed her mother.

"And you were going to tell me, when?"

"It was on the agenda...eventually." Joss took a cookie and shoved it into her mouth. It was dry as sawdust, but it kept her occupied on something other than the look her mother shooting her way.

"He told you all of this?"

"He did. Then he turned around and walked away. He said..." Joss trailed off as she remembered the last words he said to her. "That can't be right," she murmured to herself.

"He said, what, Jocelyn?"

Joss waved her hand dismissively. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."

"Obviously it was something or you wouldn't have brought it up. Now, what did he say?" Mila's tone was kindness wrapped in non-negotiable.

"He said 'I love you'."

Mila wagged her finger in victory. "There's your answer. Go after him, Jocelyn. Tell him that you love him too."

"I don't know."

"Well, I do. You and he are perfect together. You make him smile, and he calms you down; it's the perfect symmetry." Mila covered Joss' hand and gave it a loving squeeze. "At least now I know why the poor man's been walking around looking like a lost puppy."

Joss' heart jumped in her throat. "You saw him? Mother, were you spying -?"

"I wasn't spying. I'm not exactly a shut-in, Jocelyn, and I felt the need to go do some shopping. Poor guy was sitting in the park feeding pigeons." Mila sighed. "He looked so heartbroken; I didn't have the heart to tell him that the pigeons weren't going to be back for four more months." She dabbed at her eye with the corner of her apron.

"You know, dear," she continued, "Speaking of broken hearts, I think I know what happened with Paul. You didn't have to stay here and help me -"

"Mother, I did," Joss protested.

"No, you didn't. But I appreciated it just the same. Do you know why you stayed here and put off joining Paul?" Mila asked gently.

"I wanted to help you."

"I think deep down inside you knew your marriage was over, but you didn't know how to tell Paul. And you were waiting until after the holidays to ask him for a divorce."

Joss' mouth fell open. "How...? I didn't say anything."

"You left some papers on the table one day, and I just happened to glance at them," Mila revealed and ducked her head in shame. "I didn't mean to snoop, but I saw your name and I was curious. Since you never said anything, I thought maybe I read it wrong. But you were, weren't you?"

"Yes," Joss admitted and let the tears flow. "I didn't tell you because I was afraid that you would think I failed."

"Darling, there is nothing to be ashamed of," Mila comforted gently. "I wish you had said something. And that is why you don't want a tree?"

"I feel that I owe Paul. I was wrong to talk to him the way I did during our last conversation," Joss cried.

"You gave him a wonderful son and raised him well. Taylor couldn't be a better person even had Paul lived."

"I don't know."

"Well, _I_ know. I have eyes and I see. You've been wearing your sackcloth and ash for far too long," Mila reprimanded. "Go after John. Tell him what is in your heart."

"He still loves Jessica," Joss protested.

"Hmmm...I can see how that could be a little bit of a problem. But he can't love her and have done all those things for you and Taylor. Unless he's using you, then I might have to have a little talk with him."

"Mother, don't."

"Don't tell me what to do, young lady. You are still my daughter. However, you have to ask yourself if you want him back."

"If I don't?"

Mila considered Joss' challenge. "Then let him go. The heartache, the chase, the having to battle with a dead woman... Do you want that? But I ask that you consider Taylor before making any rash decisions." She topped her coffee, then offered to do the same for Joss.

"No, thanks."

"That little boy has found his hero, and it isn't going to be easy to have to explain why he can never see John any more. Are you ready to break Taylor's heart for the sake of your pride?" Mila threw down the gauntlet.

The clock ticked loudly as it counted each second that painfully passed. Wringing her hands, Joss grabbed a cookie and turned it around in her hands. But she didn't eat it.

"Alright. You made your point. Let's just say – for the sake of argument – that I want John back. What do I do?" Joss hedged. "Where do I start?"

"Ah, that's my girl," Mila smiled. "Now you're talking. Where you start...? First, you need to forgive Paul. Then forgive yourself."


	24. Chapter 24

_Thanks for all the kind reviews! It's nice to know that fanfic is up and running again and posting the kind and thoughtful words all of you have taken the time to write. Next to my man Fusco, Mila is quickly becoming one of my most favourite characters to write – and from what I've read, she is one of your favourites to read! Thank you!_

 _And, although I know many of you don't want to hear this, I need to let you know that we are getting close to the end._

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

Taylor walked carefully up the pathway toward the large house. Climbing the stairs he stepped across the porch to the door. Raising his fist, he hesitated for a second, then rapped it against the thick oak.

Taking a step back, he waited for a response.

A moment later he heard the locks turn before the door was opened.

"Hello?" Samantha greeted. "Oh, hi Taylor. What are you doing here?" she wondered with a smile.

"May I come in?"

Samantha stepped aside. "Sure. Come in. What's wrong? Is your mom okay?"

"She's fine."

"Hang up your coat and follow me. Would you like some milk and cookies?"

Taylor's stomach growled. "Sure! I mean: yes, please." He hung up his coat.

Samantha lovingly rubbed his head. "Go sit down in the dining room, and I'll get it ready."

"Miss Samantha?" Taylor asked hesitantly. "Is Officer Lionel home?"

"Yes, he is. Do you need to talk to him?"

Taylor nodded. "I do."

"I'll get him. Go get settled."

Taylor did as he was instructed. Although he had been in the house more than a few times, he took this opportunity to look around. From the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, to the large oak china cabinet at the far end of the room, to the expensive oak chairs aligned around the long mahogany oak table. The room was warm and inviting, but he still liked the dining room at his house.

"Hi Taylor," Lionel greeted happily as he entered the room. Dressed in jeans and a navy blue and tan thick cable-knit sweater, he looked different than the police officer who patrolled the streets.

"Hi Officer Lionel."

"I heard you want to speak with me." Lionel took a chair opposite Taylor. "What seems to be the problem?"

"I don't know what else to do. It's two days before Christmas, and they still haven't gotten together," Taylor said earnestly.

"They...? You mean your mom and John?" Lionel asked carefully.

"Yes! I know my grandma talked to Mom – I was there in the back room, but I could hear them talking," Taylor admitted without shame. "And I thought that she would get the clue, but this morning she said she had to go out of town."

"I see."

"Here you go, Taylor." Samantha set the glass of milk and plate of cookies in front of him. "I hope you like chocolate chip."

"Uh huh!" Taylor nodded. He took a cookie and bit into it. "This is good!"

"Hey!" Lionel appeared offended. "Where's mine?"

"Right here." Samantha handed him a glass and plate before taking the chair beside her husband.

"Did she say where she was going?" Lionel asked.

"Nuh uh. Just said she had something to take care of," Taylor answered. Lionel shoved a cookie in his mouth to keep from spilling what he knew in front of the child.

"So, why do you need our help?" Samantha asked gently.

"I want them to get married."

"You want what?" Lionel and Samantha asked in unison.

"Married. By Christmas."

"Whoa!" Lionel picked up the glass of milk and took a long sip.

"That's nice, Taylor," Samantha hedged her accolade. "I don't understand what we can do to help."

"Planning and getting them together. I know that a judge can marry them, and my friend Sam's dad is one. I don't know if he'll help, though," Taylor reconsidered his plan.

"Judge Gates?" Samantha asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh, he'll help. Remember when John helped him with that one thing a couple years ago?" Lionel asked Samantha. "He said he owed John one."

"That's good. What about a church?" Samantha asked and took a cookie from the plate.

"Nah," Taylor shook his head. "Too 'Miracle On 34th Street."

"Makes sense," Lionel agreed. "So a church is out. What about your house?"

Taylor's eyes brightened. "That would be way cool! They can get married in front of the tree!"

"Your mom still has the tree?" Lionel was surprised by the revelation.

"She says she's going to throw it out when she gets back. But if they get married before Christmas, she'll have to keep it," Taylor reasoned.

Lionel cocked his head to the right. "Are you telling me that you want your mom and John to get married so you can keep a tree?"

"No. I want them to get married because they love one another. Mom will get a husband, and I'll get a dad. Add in the tree, and it will be a perfect Christmas present for everyone," Taylor argued logically.

Samantha and Lionel looked at one another as they considered Taylor's argument. With a shrug and a nod, Samantha said, "It's daring, but I like it. And it could work."

"What does your grandmother have to say about this plan?" Lionel wondered.

"She said she's going to order the flowers." Taylor made a face. "What ever that means."

"Well, that's taken care of," Lionel grinned. He turned and looked at Samantha. "You want to do this?"

"The only things we have to lose are our partners," she mused.

"What do you say, squirt? Are you in this with us?" Lionel asked Taylor.

Taylor's smile was wide. "You bet!" he shouted and raised his hand to give Samantha a high-five. Picking up his glass of milk, he held it up. Taking the hint, Lionel picked up his glass and Samantha picked up her can of Coke. Together they tapped their drinks to Taylor's to seal the deal.  
******

Six hours of driving to reach her destination, but that wasn't what was on Joss' mind as she trod softly thru the freshly fallen snow in the cemetery. In her arms she carried a bouquet of flowers. She was tired but there was something she needed to do before she could take a much needed rest. Walking carefully between headstones, her eyes flicked upward every now and then to check the name.

And then she was there.

Time seemed to stand still as Joss stood at the foot of Paul's grave and tried to think of something to say.

"Hi Paul," she greeted hesitantly. "I-I brought you flowers. Your favourites," she added with a small smile. Stepping forward, she knelt down on the frozen ground and placed the flowers in the large vase attached to the base of the headstone. Carefully she arranged them before standing up.

"I know that it's been a while since I've been by to talk to you. I don't really have an excuse, except...I didn't want to come. I was angry at you and myself. I know it's no excuse, but the last time we talked..." Joss shook her head. "No. It was long before our last talk. I stopped loving you, Paul," she confessed. Tears clogged her throat. Twice she tried to swallow before getting past the lump.

"I should have told you then, but I was so afraid of failing everyone – my parents, you...myself – that I figured if I kept it to myself that eventually the feeling would go away. You had every right to want me to go to Hawai'i. But you also should have respected my feelings. I guess they were right when they say that communication break down is the number one cause of relationships failing."

The breeze started slow, then picked up. Joss reached up and brushed the tears away.

"I'm sorry that you felt the need to hurry home. And I'm sorry that I bought the tree. It wasn't to undermine you or make you feel useless – it was to make us happy. And ever since that Christmas, I have never had a tree because I didn't want to insult your memory. But... I think it's time to change things. I've fallen in love. His name is John, and he is a police officer. He's wonderful with Taylor – I guess that's what matters, right?" Joss asked rhetorically.

"He loves me too...I think. I don't know. He's got the same baggage as I do. And...well...I haven't had the courage to ask him if he wants to spend the rest of his life with me. I hope he does. But if he doesn't, I'm still going to let him be in Taylor's life," she added quickly. "I don't know if you can see our son, but if you can, I hope that you are proud of him. I am."

Joss felt the heavy weight that had been around her heart slowly loosen and begin to fade. She took a deep breath of the cold, frigid air and felt it sting her lungs.

"I'm here to ask your forgiveness, Paul. I was wrong during our marriage – I did many things I'm not proud of – and if I could take it all back, I would. I hope you understand. I want to tell you, too, that I forgive you. I hope that you have found peace. There is a part of me that will always love you." She kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed them to the cold stone.

"Next time I come out, I will bring Taylor and John." Joss stood up. "Bye, Paul." Closing her eyes, she breathed in and then out. Opening her eyes, she turned on her heel and headed home.


	25. Chapter 25

_John makes his visit with some interesting surprises._

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

John stood at the foot of Jessica's grave and struggled for something to say. Minutes had turned into hours, and despite the temperature dropping, he still had not found the right words to begin the conversation he knew he had to have. In his arms he held the bouquet of flowers – afraid to put them down lest he would be required to speak.

Without having to turn his head, he could sense the presence of another person. Closing his eyes, he waited with bated breath for the person to pass on by. But they didn't. He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise as the crunching snow became louder. Then it stopped.

"You must be John," male voice said.

"I am," John admitted carefully. Shifting his eyes he looked at the tall man dressed in heavy wool coat. His salt-n-pepper hair was bare, but expensive leather gloves covered his hands.

"She spoke often of you," the man continued. "Plus I found your picture in her wallet."

"Peter Arndt," John acknowledged.

"It's nice to finally meet the mystery man who was part of Jessica's life for so long. I haven't see you here before," Peter remarked casually.

"Because I haven't been here before."

"That makes sense. I come out here every Christmas to visit her." Peter shrugged. "You know, tell her all that is going on in my life. Not that it's very exciting: treat patients, stitch cuts, put on casts...the boring doctor stuff."

"Are you still living in Mexico?" John asked. He tried to tell himself that he was making polite conversation, but deep down inside he wanted to know more about the man who had replaced him.

"No. I have been to Bosnia, Syria, and the Ukraine setting up hospitals. Last year I went to Nigeria to help out with the refugees."

John tried to think of something to say, but how could he compete with that? Standing stock still, he began to wonder if coming to Jessica's grave was such a wise move.

"Are you still a police officer in that little town?" Peter wondered.

"Yes."

"I went there. Once. Nice little town. Don't know if I could have spent the rest of my life there, but you seem to have done well by it."

"Thanks. I think." Unsure how to reply or what to do next, John started to turn around. "I think I need to go."

"John. Wait." Peter reached into his coat and pulled out an envelope. "This is for you."

John took the envelope and looked at it. On the front was his name in beautiful script. He held it, but he didn't open it.

"I found it when I was sorting through Jessica's belongings. I guess she meant to give it to you, but..." Peter gave a little shrug. "I've been holding on to it and hoping that one day I would run into you. I don't know what's in it, but I hope that it brings you closure."

"Thanks," John tone was hollow.

"She was...one in a million," Peter said softly. "I didn't think I'd ever find anyone after her, and, uh, I was right. How do you move on from someone like Jessica? I've tried...it just..." His voice trembled. "I didn't want anyone else." He looked up at John. A tear fell from his eye. "We talked about it – what would happen if one of us...went first. She made me promise that I would find someone else, but I...I couldn't."

The silence in the cemetery was deafening. Only the wind made an ominous sound as it weaved thru the barren trees.

"How do you move on when you're the reason the only woman you'll ever love is gone because of you?" Peter asked.

He had read the reports a hundred times. No evidence of foul play was listed; it had been a horrible accident. "I thought it was an accident?" John asked carefully.

"We got a late start from the airport. It was a patient on the other end of the line, and I thought I could take the call and solve the problem. Forty minutes later we finally left to get on the road. And I guess you know the rest of the story. If only..." Peter brushed a tear away with the back of his hand "...we would have been home."

John watched every emotion pass across Peter's face. There was nothing to indicate that the man was lying.

"But eventually I moved on. I found someone who gave me a reason to keep living," Peter continued. "She taught me how to forgive myself. We've been married for three years and we have a daughter. I learned that love can come more than once. You just have to ask yourself if you want it."

John didn't reply, but he did weigh everything Peter said.

"You, uh, you got anyone, John?" Peter asked out of the blue.

"I think so. Yes."

"Don't let her go," Peter instructed. "Tell her every day that you love her – even on the days you think you don't mean it – and remember to kiss her before you leave for work and when you come home. Do these things and you'll be blessed for the rest of your life."

"I'll remember that. I should go."

Peter extended his hand. "It was good to meet you, John."

John shook Peter's hand. "You too." Kneeling down, he placed the flowers in the vase at the base of the headstone. Standing up, he brushed the snow from his knees. "Merry Christmas, Peter."

"Merry Christmas to you, John."

Turning on his heel, John walked along the path he had taken earlier.

"I'm sure Jessica would be very happy for us," Peter called out.

John turned his head to flash a small smile and give a wave. Then he hurried to the car.  
*****

The miles passed by slowly as John drove the car down the long, winding road. For the past couple of hours he had tried to block out what Peter had told him, but now it was knocking on the back of his brain.

 _Tell her every day that you love her...remember to kiss her before you leave for work...you'll be blessed for the rest of your life._

Yeah, John thought to himself, that was easy for Peter to say. At least he got to say good-bye. At least he got his closure. Three hours at the foot of Jessica's grave and all he got were frozen toes.

He glanced at the gas gauge. The needle was at the quarter mark. Maybe it was time to pull over and take a break and stretch.

Pulling into the gas station, he turned off the engine. Stepping out of the car, he hurried inside to pay for the gas and grab a cup of coffee.

"On your way home," the woman behind the register asked politely.

"Yes, ma'am." John swiped his card and waited for the receipt.

"Have a safe drive." The cashier ripped off the paper and handed it over.

"Thanks." John took the receipt and headed for the door.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas," John called back.

Hurrying into the freezing cold, he quickly filled the gas tank. The cold wind picked up speed as he replaced the nozzle on the pump and got inside the car. Turning the engine, he turned up the heat and placed his hands on the vent.

Taking a sip from the hot cup, he glanced down at the passenger seat and saw the envelope. Picking it up, he debated tossing it. Settling the cup between his thighs, he tore the flap open and extracted the flower print stationary. The faint scent of perfume tickled his nose. Then he began to read.

 _Dear John,_

 _I hope this letter finds you in good health and doing well. I know that the last time we spoke, we said some things to each other that we probably can never take back. How could we have been so foolish? Honestly, how could I have been so foolish?_ _I went there to try and change your mind, but I failed and I took it out on you. You are so happy where you are, and I wish I could have shared that with you. But that life wasn't for me. You loved me so much and I was blind to it. I know that you think you've done something wrong or could have changed your life for me – all I can say is that you shouldn't. We weren't meant to be._

 _I found someone – and although he isn't you, he's still a good man. His name is Peter and he's a doctor. I know that you would like him if you ever have the chance to meet him. I also know that you must hate me, but I'm asking for your forgiveness. Life is too short to carry that burden. I hope that you have found true love and gotten the family you deserve. I hope that she treats you well. Love her. Cherish her. Tell her that I hope she does the same for you. Who knows, maybe we'll see each other again someday._

 _Blessings to you and yours._

 _Jessica_

The words blurred toward the end as John re-read the letter. With each pass he felt the steel band around his heart slowly begin to loosen. There it was in black and white: His answer. All the years he had wondered and wished to know her side, and now he knew. All the years he thought it was his fault, but it hadn't been. Now he was free.

Glancing at his watch, he noticed the time. Nine thirty. There was no time for him to get home before Joss went to sleep, but he could be there in the morning. He could finally tell her what was in his heart: He loved her! And God willing, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her and Taylor and make a family.

Then he sobered as he remembered their last conversation and how he turned around and walked away. There was no way she was going to give him a second chance. How could she ever forgive him.

Placing the cup in the cup holder, John shifted the car into drive and sped off into the night. Jessica's letter gave him a purpose to make it better. And come blizzards or drought, he would.


	26. Chapter 26

_I consider Taylor more of an elf than a cupid._

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

"Let's sit down over here," Joss said and led the way thru the loud, crowded food court to the bench on the far side of the room. With his triple-dipped ice cream cone clutched tight in his hand, Taylor followed his mother. Settled down on the marble bench, he set the large bag between his feet and took a big lick of the ice cream. The sound of Christmas Carols came over the speakers to add in with the chaos and mayhem.

"I was wondering if we might be able to talk," Joss said.

"Sure, Mom. What about?" Taylor asked.

"I want to apologize for the way I acted when you and Officer Reese brought home the tree. I was wrong, and I'm sorry."

"We should have asked."

"No." Joss shook her head. "You shouldn't have. I made an unreasonable demand on you because I was hurting inside."

Taylor gave her a solemn look. "It has to do with Dad, doesn't it?"

"It does. It did. We had a fight over the tree right before he died," she revealed. "He was coming home to throw it away."

"That's not very nice. Is that why you didn't want one? Because you made him mad?" Taylor asked.

"I didn't want one because I felt guilty," Joss confessed. "I know it sounds childish."

"You were hurting, Mom. You were wrong, and Dad was wrong. Is that why you went to see him?"

Joss blinked. "How did you know?"

Taylor casually licked his cone. "A kid knows these things, Mom. Besides, where else would you have gone?"

"You're going to make a great lawyer."

"I'd rather be a detective. So...what did you tell him?"

"Tell who?"

"Dad."

"That I was sorry."

"Did you tell him about Officer Reese?"

"What is this, Twenty Questions? And why do you need to know?" Joss shot back.

"Because I have a quizitive mind."

"I think you mean _inquisitive_ ," she corrected.

"Yeah, that. Did you?"

"Yes."

"So...?"

"So, what?"

"Are you going to marry him?" Taylor asked bluntly.

"Marry who? John?"

"Yeah."

Joss shifted uncomfortably on the bench. "I... Taylor...I don't know if I should be discussing this..."

"If he's going to be my dad, then you should," Taylor interrupted. "Do you love him?"

"Yes."

"I think he loves you too. So marry him."

"Taylor..." Joss shook her head. "It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"Because..." Joss took the ice cream from Taylor and gave it a couple licks.

"From the way I see it, you said you're sorry to Dad, and you love Officer Reese. It it got any simpler, Santa could marry you two."

"He's not talking to me."

"Santa?"

"No. John, smart aleck." Joss handed back the cone.

"Go talk to him. I know! Invite him to the Christmas Eve program at church tomorrow night," Taylor suggested.

"That may not be a good idea." She didn't want to divulge how she had driven to John's house upon arriving back to town and finding the residence empty. Her heart had sighed sadly as she realized that maybe he didn't want anything to do with her.

Taylor cocked his head to the right, and then to the left. "It's the best one I can come up with. Do you have better one?"

"Not really. No," she reluctantly admitted defeat at the mind of a ten year old.

"Ask him out. Then go for ice cream or a movie. Then come home and we'll unwrap presents," Taylor laid it out without so much as blinking an eye.

Joss scrutinized her son carefully. "What are you up to, T?"

"Nothing. It's Christmas and you should be happy."

"Hmmm..." Joss sighed. "I think you have something up your sleeve."

Taylor raised his arm and pulled the cuff out to peer down the sleeve. "Nope. Nothing there." He checked his other arm. "Nope. Nothing there, too."

"Wise guy," Joss muttered and rumpled Taylor's hair. "I'll ask him. Happy?"

"Almost," Taylor replied slyly.

"What if I said that you can keep the tree?"

"I don't want it."

Joss stared at him in surprise. "What do you mean you don't want it?"

"I don't want it unless I get something else in return."

"Which is...?" Joss struggled to make sense of Taylor's change of heart.

"I'll let you know when the time is right. Maybe."

Joss gave a short laugh. "You know, son, you're going to make an excellent prosecutor."

"Detective," Taylor corrected and finished off his treat. He wiped his hands on his jeans. "Ooops! Sorry, Mom."

"Go wash your hands, and then we'll finish shopping."

"And you'll call him." Taylor held Joss' gaze.

"I'll call him," Joss conceded.  
********

"What are you doing for Christmas?" Taylor asked as he lined the shot from the free-throw line.

"Nothing. Why?" John asked.

"Wanna go to church for the Christmas Eve show?" Taylor threw the ball and stomped his foot as the ball hit the rim and bounced off.

"What time?"

"Seven. Maybe you should ask Mom to go with you," Taylor suggested in a casual way.

"I don't know." John had come back to town early in the morning, but when he had gone over to see Joss, she was gone. Discouraged, he had waited for the time when he was going to take Taylor to practice shots. "Does she want to talk to me?"

"Yeah. She told me so herself. I think she wants you to take her," Taylor hinted and tossed the ball again. This time it went in. "Do you love her?"

John tensed at the question. "Who?"

"The woman who broke your heart."

Frozen by the statement, John could only stare at Taylor. "What?"

Taylor rolled his eyes. "Why do adults think that kids can't hear them when they're only one room away? You guys should consider keeping your voices down if you want to keep a secret." He threw the ball at John. "So, do you?"

"I thought I did, but..." John trailed off. It felt beyond surreal to talk to a child about his personal problems. "If you know about her, what's her name?" he challenged. He threw the ball back at Taylor.

"Jessica. I overheard you and Mom that night she threw a fit over the tree," Taylor revealed. "So, you don't love her. Do you love my mom?"

"Taylor, I'm not sure where this conversation is heading."

"Yeah, that's adults for ya," Taylor muttered under his breath and dribbled the ball.

"What did you say?"

"Do you love her?"

"It's complicated."

"No, algebra's complicated," Taylor contradicted. "Love is easy. You love her, she loves you. Happy ever after."

"How old are you?"

"Ten."

"You're going to make a great prosecutor someday," John predicted.

"That's what Mom said. I want to be a detective."

"You definitely have that 'something', that's for sure." John motioned for Taylor to toss him the ball.

"The show is at seven. Then you can come by and open gifts."

"Taylor, it's..." John tried to find a logical and rational excuse to get out of the invite.

"You've never had a good Christmas, have you?"

John considered lying before replying, "No."

"I didn't think so. Mom hasn't had a good one in a long time, either. Just come over and share Christmas Eve. It can't hurt."

John debated with himself. The offer of a nice Christmas was almost too tempting to pass up.

"What's in it for you?" John asked carefully.

"I don't know yet," Taylor admitted. "But I'm hoping he doesn't disappoint. At least he promised he wouldn't."

"You know, you're a tough kid to say 'no' to," John stated. "What if I say yes, and I decide to take you up on your offer?" he threw back.

"Then call Mom. Or you can ask her when you drop me off," Taylor planted the seeds of suggestion.

John looked at his watch. "Okay. It's getting late. Let's go eat. Maybe get something for your mom."

Taylor took one last shot. The ball hit the rim, the backboard, then the rim again before falling thru the hoop. He jumped up and down in victory. "Yay!"

"That was great! Give me five!" John raised his hand high enough for Taylor to reach.

"Wait 'til I tell Mom," Taylor chortled. He ran over to grab the ball, then trotted back to where John stood. "Guess this means you're paying," he stated.

John rumpled Taylor's hair. "You are definitely on your way to becoming a police officer, son," John said with a short laugh. "Get the bag. Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir." Taylor lifted the backpack strap onto his shoulder. Side by side they walked to the car, but Taylor felt as though he was floating on air.

 _He called me 'son'._


	27. Chapter 27

_Sorry this update took so long. A lot has been going on in my life, and to make matters worse, the characters stopped talking to me. No matter how many times I started this chapter, nothing worked. We want a happy ending for our love-birds, but it can never be that easy for them. I mean, where would the fun be in making it easy, right? I hope you enjoy this chapter._

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

"Thank you for dinner," Joss said as she stood on the porch across from John. The night sky danced with the twinkling stars, but there wasn't a cloud in the sky. But from the distance, the moon seemed to wink.

"You're welcome," John replied softly. "I thought you might be hungry."

"You were correct. It hit the spot."

The light wind carried just a nip, causing Joss to shiver and burrow deeper under her shawl. John started to reach out, then stopped. For a long moment the silence hung as they tried to think of something say.

"Would you like to go to church tomorrow night?" Joss and John asked simultaneously.

"Wait. What did you say?" Joss asked in surprise.

"Would you like to go to church? With me?"

"That's what I asked you," she said. They both chuckled. "Well, that's awkward."

"So, do you?" John asked.

"Depends, do you?" Joss returned demurely.

"What time should I pick you up?"

"Six?"

"Casual?"

"Semi-casual."

John took Joss's hand in his and just held it. The moment almost seemed surreal and time seemed to have stopped. Unsure what to say, the couple stood in silence.

"I guess I should get inside and see what Taylor is doing," Joss excused and tried to pull her hand back.

"I should go home and check on Bear," John said, but he didn't let go.

"I should get inside," Joss repeated.

"You already said that. What's on your mind, Joss?"

"Nothing. I..." Joss tried to find the right words to say what was on her mind, but John was moving in closer. She felt her breath catch in her chest and she tried to will her feet to move, but nothing happened. Flicking her eyes upward, she checked for something.

"What's wrong?" John asked. His hand cupped Joss's cheek.

"Looking for mistletoe."

"You think I need mistletoe to kiss you?" His voice was low and soft and seemed to cloak Joss in a protectiveness she had never experienced before.

"No," she breathed.

John lowered his head. "Good." At that same moment his phone rang. "Dang." Pulling back, he took the phone from his jacket pocket and hit talk. "Hello?" he answered into the speaker. He waited for the caller to talk. "I understand. No. No problem." He disconnected the call.

"What's wrong?" Joss asked.

"That was the Police Chief. I have to go in."

"Tonight? I thought you were off this week."

"One of the officers called in sick. I need to go." John touched Joss's cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Okay."

John hurried down the steps to the car. Turning around, he gave Joss a wave. Then he got in the car and drove off.

Sighing sadly in discouragement, Joss stood and watched as the tail lights faded off into the distance until they were swallowed by the darkness.  
*********

"How do I look?" Joss asked as she opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the bedroom. Taking a couple of steps forward, she stopped and turned around to model the dress.

Taylor made a face. "No."

Joss gave him a look. "No?" she repeated. "What's wrong with it?" She walked over to the full-length mirror and looked at her reflection. As far as she could tell, there was nothing wrong with her appearance. The dress was a little out of date, but surely no one was going to notice, right?

"Everything! It's got...flowers," Taylor retorted in disgust. He made a face.

"They're nice," Joss replied with what she hoped was confidence.

"They're girlie."

"Girlie? It's a respectable dress to wear to church," she pointed out in a no nonsense tone.

"It's Christmas, Mom."

"And...?" she prompted.

"You should be festival."

"I think you mean 'festive'."

"Yeah, that. You look like an old lady."

Joss turned around to look at her son. "Where do you get these silly ideas?"

"It's all that girlie TV you make me watch," Taylor replied sarcastically.

" _Make_ you watch? I can turn it off and let you do homework instead. What do you think of that?" she shot back. Her hands were on her hips. She dared him to defy her.

Taylor reconsidered his reply. "Girlie TV is great," he amended with his most charming of smiles.

Joss let out her breath and turned back to the mirror. "Okay. Now back to the matter at hand. I like the dress," she said, but there was doubt in her tone. She picked at the collar. Maybe she could liven it up with a necklace. Or maybe her grandmother's pearls... Joss gave an inward groan. Okay, so maybe Taylor had a point, but she wasn't going to give in.

"I don't."

Joss closed her eyes and counted to five. "Taylor..." She reached in and took out another dress. She held it up. "How about this one?" she tried to compromise.

"You can't look like you're going to an office party. It's church."

Joss hung the second dress back on the rack. "That's why this dress works."

"What if Officer Reese doesn't like it?"

"I don't think he's going to have any say in what I wear."

"You still want to look nice for him."

"What are you up to, son?" Joss wondered. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Taylor's look was of pure innocence as he replied, "Nothing."

"Hmmm?"

"Honest."

"So you didn't ask him to ask me out tonight?"

Taylor shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "No...well...maybe."

"Taylor!"

"I wanted to make sure that if you forgot to ask, that base would be covered."

Joss gave a short laugh of disbelief. "That's it, son. No more T.V."

"Aw, Mom," Taylor whined.

"I don't know where you get all of these weird ideas."

"If you don't want to go, just call him and tell him you changed your mind." Taylor picked up the phone on the bed. He extended it toward Joss. "Here. Call him."

"Taylor." Joss shook her head. "I can't."

"You won't."

"Why are we even having this conversation?" Joss tried to make sense of the moment.

"Because you won't admit your feelings."

"Who are you, Dr. Phil?"

Taylor cocked his head. "Who's he?"

"A doctor who..." Joss waved her hand. "Forget it. I'm not denying my feelings."

"If you asked him to marry you, I'm sure he'd say yes."

Joss walked over to where Taylor sat. "M-m-marry?!" she sputtered. "Oh, no. Not happening."

Taylor was flummoxed by the remark. "What do you mean?"

"Me and John...er, Officer Reese?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"T... It's not that easy."

"It is if Santa says it is."

Joss shook her head. "What does Santa have to do with this?"

"Santa said that if I kept the faith and wished on the big star, he would make my wish come true. Santa doesn't lie."

Joss cupped Taylor's cheek lovingly. "No, he doesn't," she agreed. "But sometimes there are things that might be too complicated for even Santa to accomplish."

Taylor dropped his head in defeat. "Maybe I should have taken the train," he muttered.

"I'm not going to stop him from being your Big Brother," Joss said softly. "You can go with him after school."

"I don't want a Big Brother."

"What do you want?"

"You wouldn't understand, Mom." Taylor pulled away and walked over to the closet. "Your dress still looks..." He trailed off before he said something he would regret. "What about a white one?"

"I don't own a white one, Taylor."

Taylor pushed the clothes back as he searched for the right dress. "I think you do."

"No, I don't."

"Ah ha!" Taylor crowed triumphantly. "Here it is." He stepped out and held the dress up by the hanger.

Joss walked over. Hesitantly she touched the white lace on the dress. "Where did that come from?"

"It was in the back."

"I didn't even know..."

Taylor thrust the dress forward. "Put it on, Mom. We're going to be late."

"I don't know."

"Hurry, Mom," Taylor said impatiently and dragged her by the hand to the bathroom.

"T-" The sound of the doorbell interrupted Joss's protest.

"Hurry," Taylor repeated and pulled the door closed behind him.  
****

John adjusted his tie as he waited.

"She'll be out in just a minute," Taylor said confidently. "So, you want to stay tonight?" he suddenly offered the invite.

John looked up in surprise. "What?"

"After church. You know, come here and stay...for a while. Or longer. If you want."

"Eh. Taylor, I..." John tried to think of a logical response. As one began to inform, he looked up and his mind suddenly went blank. "Joss," he breathed in awe at the woman standing in the doorway.

"Hi John. Sorry I'm running late. I couldn't find the right shoes to go with this outfit."

Mouth suddenly dry, John tried to swallow. "You look nice," he complimented. "Lovely dress."

"Nice suit," Joss complimented in return.

Taylor looked at his mother, then at John. Yeah, he thought to himself, it was possible that tonight his wish was going to come true. Now he just had to make sure that everyone else did their part. But first he had to get the adults to church.

Taylor looked at his watch. "It's getting late, guys. We gotta go or we're going to be late."

John took the coat off the hook near the door. He held it open for Joss who slipped it on. Then he reached for the knob on the front door and pulled it open. "After you," he invited, stepping aside.

"Thank you."

"Here's your purse, Mom," Taylor called out and ran to catch up.

"Everyone ready?" John asked. "Let's go." He closed the door behind them.


	28. Chapter 28

_I would have had this posted a couple of days ago, but at the last minute I had to change everything and rewrite the whole chapter when it was revealed that Bear is going to add his two cents. I guess everyone knows that Joss and John belong together - except for them. And as you may have guessed it, we are getting close to the end._

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

Standing at the entrance of the church, Joss quickly pulled on her gloves and waited for the line to move forward. "Thank you for a lovely service," Joss said and shook the pastor's hand when it was finally her turn.

"You're welcome. Thank you for coming."

"It was our pleasure. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," the pastor replied with a smile. He turned his attention to the other people in the line.

"Come on, Taylor," Joss said as she put her arm across his shoulders and guided him down the steps of the church. Taking up the end, John followed closely behind. In his hands he held Bear's leash.

"That was a nice sermon," John remarked. He couldn't help but notice a sense of peace that had fallen over and cloaked him as the pastor preached about the second chance the season brought and the real meaning behind the celebration. He almost felt – dare he say? – brand new.

"It was lovely," Joss agreed. During the service something had awoken deep inside of her. She couldn't explain what it was, but when John took her hand as they stood for the final song, her heart had nearly jumped out of her chest it was beating so fast.

"Can I walk Bear?" Taylor asked. He didn't want to appear too eager, so he smiled and waited as patiently as any ten year old was capable.

"May I," Joss corrected automatically.

" _May_ I walk Bear?"

"Yes, you may. Hold the leash like this," John instructed as he wrapped the leash around Taylor's hand and wrist. "Don't let him take charge, okay?"

"Okay."

"Pick up the slack on the leash, son," John advised.

Joss eyed the canine and then her son. "Are you sure Taylor is safe?"

"Bear is trained to respond to command." John bit off a command in Danish. Automatically the dog slowed his pace so Taylor could keep up. Feeling happy enough to sing, Taylor did just that.

"Glo-o-o-o-o-o-ria! In excessive day ohs," Taylor sang out loud. Bear added his howling vocals to complete the harmony.

Joss laughed. "That's not quite the way it goes. It's 'in excelsis deo'," she corrected. "But I'm sure God knew what you were trying to say."

"What does it mean?" Taylor asked and wrapped the leash around his hand a couple of times.

"Uh..." Joss tried to remember her Sunday school classes of long ago, but came up empty.

"God in the highest," John easily supplied the translation. "It's latin."

Joss smiled. "I'm impressed."

"Twelve years of Catholic school," John confessed. "I figure some of it would have to stay with me."

"A Navy SEAL, Catholic school, police work in a big city... No wonder why you came here to unwind," she teased. Her heart picked up speed as her and John's eyes met. The chill of the air seemed to fade away as Joss grew warm enough to want to shed her coat.

"It prepared me for life." Walking side by side, their steps matched. It was cold and clear, and they had no where to go fast. "I went by your house a few days ago," John confessed. "You weren't there."

"I went out of town."

"Nothing serious, I hope."

"Had to say good-bye to someone."

"Oh?" John's tone held a bit of curiosity.

"I said good-bye to Paul. I told him that it was time to move on."

"Anyone in particular?" John inquired.

"Mmmm...I might have someone in mind," Joss replied coyly.

"How did it feel? Saying good-bye, that is?"

"Good," she confessed. "It felt real good. And what about you?" she asked. "What secret are you hiding?" Her eye caught a suspicious movement. "Taylor, stay on the sidewalk."

"What do you mean?"

"I went by your house when I came back, and _you_ weren't home."

"I visited Jessica."

"I see." Joss' smile seemed to lose some of it's brightness. Maybe it was just her, but Joss swore she could feel the ghost of John's long lost love shadowing just close enough to never let go.

"It's not like that, Joss. I ran into her husband. He moved on with his life – wife, child, happy – the things I didn't think I deserved. I still wonder if I deserve it."

Their steps still perfectly matched, but an air of tension seemed to fall between them. Joss wanted to say something, but her mind was blank with what response she could use to plead the case that John was deserving of happiness and love. But the words wouldn't come.

"He gave me a letter."

"Who did?" Joss asked stupidly.

"Peter. I guess Jessica wrote me a letter before she died." John pulled it out of his coat pocket. He handed it to Joss. "She forgave me, but she also asked for forgiveness. She wanted me to be happy and move on to someone who could love me the way she couldn't."

"Do you?"

"Do I, what?" John asked. He stopped walking and stared at Joss. His body tingled with a feeling he had never experienced before. Maybe it was the moment, or maybe the way Joss was looking at him, but he could feel something begin to fill his heart. And he liked it.

"Want to move on. With someone?" Joss' heart skipped a beat at the thought of John saying yes.

Oblivious to the fact that they were standing in public on the sidewalk where everyone could see them, John cupped Joss' cheek with his hand. There was something shining in her eyes and he was drawn to it. Lowering his head, he told himself that it was just a kiss. Suddenly he was pushed from behind.

"Excuse me," a voice said as the person hurried by.

Regaining his balance, John looked down at Joss. "Are you okay?" he asked. His eyes scanned the area for the person who interrupted their moment, but there was no one. He shook his head.

"I'm fine," she replied breathlessly. "I -" she began, then stopped as Bear barked furiously and jumped about. A second later he pulled against his restraint. Hard. "Taylor!" Joss felt herself freeze in place as Taylor pitched forward, then caught himself at the last second. Recovering, Taylor looked fearfully at his mother for help.

Then they heard the snap.

"Bear!" Taylor yelled as the dog broke his leash and started to gallop away. "Come back!"

"Bear!" John called out after the canine. " _Heir!"_ But the dog continued to run down the street. He rounded the corner and disappeared into the night.

"Bear! Come back!" Taylor yelled at the top of his lungs as he took off after Bear. Heedless of his mother's demand, his feet barely touched the pavement as he gave chase.

"Taylor! Stop!" Joss called out after her son. "John, make them stop!" she pleaded.

"Taylor!" John barked. His voice seemed to echo off the houses.

"John, what is happening? We have to get Taylor!" she cried and tried to break free of his grip.

"Joss! Joss! Stop!" He pulled her back. "Listen to me."

"I have to get Taylor. Let me go!"

"Joss, it's going to be okay."

Joss struggled against John vice-like grip. "Don't tell me it's going to be okay. What if-?"

John placed his finger over her lips to stop the thought from being said. "Joss. You have my word that nothing is going to happen. We'll find them. I promise."

"Where...?" Joss felt fear begin to choke her. "Where...?"

"They probably went back to your house," John deduced the possible places Bear could have gone. "Around the corner is your house. Let's try there," he suggested logically.

"I don't understand."

"Let's not make it more than it is. Let's try there."

"Has he ever done this before?" Joss wondered at the sudden burst of energy from the usual placid dog.

John shook his head. "No. I don't know what got into him."

"What if Taylor...?" Joss tried to banish the thought from her head.

John took Joss' hands in his and held tight. "There are no cars on the road, and the city is pretty safe. I'll call Lionel and have him meet us at the house, okay?"

"Okay," Joss reluctantly agreed. For the first time in her life she cursed having worn heels. She was only half-listening to John's side of the call while her thoughts centered on her missing son.

"Okay." John disconnected the call. "Lionel is on his way over there. He said he'll meet us there."

"Are you sure?" Joss' eyes were bleak with fear.

"You have my word, Joss. Nothing is going to happen to Taylor." He tightened his hold on her hand and tried to will some of his strength into her. "Let's go." Picking up the pace, the pair hurried down the sidewalk toward the house. Silently each sent a prayer of hope upward.


	29. Chapter 29

_**Thank you all for your patience and support. I am sorry that I left all of you hanging on, but I didn't want to deliver anything less than the best. All of you deserve nothing less. And although it's taken over a month to finish, I hope I haven't let you down. It's been a slow process, but I'm getting back on my feet. Thank you for the kind words of encouragement and support.  
Now, without further ado, let's get on to the moment you've been waiting for! There is going to be a couple of "a ha's" and a huge surprise at the end (what can I say? I'm the queen of twists and "I didn't see that coming!"). I hope you enjoy! **_

_**I don't own Person of Interest.**_

 _ **Song prompt: "Hope Is Born Again" by Jim Brickman and Point of Grace.**_

 _ **Dedicated to all my readers.**_

* * *

 **Hope Is Born Again**

Panting heavily, her feet hurting from running in heels, Joss felt her lungs burn from the brisk, cold air she breathed in. Never had a block seemed so long.

"Are you okay?" John asked as they came to a stop on the sidewalk outside of Joss' home.

"Yeah. Yeah. I just need a minute," Joss tried to catch her breath. "What in the world...?" she whispered, noticing the lights on in the house.

"What's wrong?"

"I turned out the lights when we left." John pulled out his service weapon. "John. Wait for Lionel," Joss cautioned.

John laid his free hand on her shoulder. "I'll be okay, Joss. Stay here."

"No. I'm coming with you," she contradicted his order.

"Joss-"

"You're not arguing with me on this, John," Joss' tone was firm.

"Okay. Stay behind me." Stealthily he crept down the sidewalk, up the steps to the porch. Joss felt dread fill her as she followed in his shadow. She looked around and didn't see Taylor or Bear.

"Where are you?" she whispered rhetorically to the quiet darkness.

John pressed the handle of the screen door with his thumb as gently as he could and held his breath as it swung open. Turning the knob on the front door, he found it, surprisingly, unlocked. "Stay here." Pushing it open with his foot, he counted to ten. Counting to five, he took a deep breath, then stepped into the room.

"Freeze!" he ordered loudly.

Startled by the command, Mila dropped the plate of cookies. It hit the floor with a crash. Cookies scattered in every direction.

"Oh, my goodness!" she exclaimed and covered her heart with her hand. "Officer Reese, you startled me."

Flummoxed, John looked around at the living room. _Were those white roses and carnations sitting on every available space? And candles, too?_

"Mila? What are you doing here?" he asked stupidly as he lowered his weapon.

"Put the gun away and I'll tell you." A second later she was shoved out of the way by Bear who came running in to help vacuum up the ruined treats. Hungrily he swallowed without barely chewing.

" _Nee! Los! Blijf!_ " John spoke the commands. Immediately Bear did as he was told, but with a whine and a pitiful look that were directed at his master. With a dejected sigh, he walked over to the corner and sat down.

"What happened? Is everyone okay?" Joss asked breathlessly, running into the house after hearing the commotion. "Mom?" Joss blinked in surprise.

"Hi darling," Mila greeted as though nothing was wrong.

"What are you doing here? In my house?" Joss demanded. "And what is all of this?" Her hand swept around the room at the decorations.

"Let me get a broom first so I can clean up the mess." Before John or Joss could reply, Mila turned on her heel and hurried to the kitchen.

"What was that all about?" Joss asked.

John put his weapon away. "I have no idea. I came in and she was standing right there...with cookies," he explained, but it didn't make any more sense to him, either.

Samantha walked into the room and smiled. "Joss. Hi. You're a little early."

"Sam," Joss acknowledged. "What are you doing here? And what is that in your hands?"

Samantha looked down at the cake in her hands. "Oh, this? It's a cake," she returned casually. She walked over to the table and set the beautifully decorated cake on it.

"For whom?"

"For -"

"Hey," Lionel's voice boomed as he literally bounced into the room. "You're here. Great."

"You're late," John returned with a piercing look.

"Had to pick up a couple of things on the way over." Lionel handed over the plastic bags to Samantha. "Here you go, honey. All they had left was sparkling apple cider; I hope you don't mind."

"Thanks." Samantha gave Lionel a quick kiss and took the bags. "I'll get this ready." She disappeared into the kitchen.

"You said you were going to meet us here," John stated accusingly.

"I did. You're here. I'm here. We're all here," Lionel evaded answering directly. He took off his coat and hung it on the coat tree near the door.

"Where is Taylor?" Joss asked.

"Right here, Mom," Taylor piped up and walked into the room. Gone was the outfit he had worn to church. Now he was wearing a suit and a bow tie – which he was trying to unsuccessfully tie.

Joss hurried over to her son. "Are you alright?" her voice shook with emotion. She wanted to shake him and hold him at the same time. A part of her wanted to send him to his room until he was forty, but the logical part wanted to reward him. She was so confused by everything.

"I'm fine. Can you help me with this?" Taylor asked.

"You took off with Bear. I was worried," she chastised.

"I didn't take off," Taylor corrected. "I followed Bear, and he brought me here. I knew you would follow."

"I was worried."

"Officer Reese was with you."

"All's well that ends well," Mila interjected. She turned to help Taylor with his bow. "There you go. You look so handsome."

"Thanks Grandma."

"Mother," Joss said tersely with her hands on her hips.

"Jocelyn," Mila returned with mock terseness. "Get your hands off your hips."

Joss looked insulted by the order. "This is my house."

"And I'm still your mother. Taylor's fine, and we're all here. That's what matters."

"What matters is what I'm seeing. What is going on here?" Joss asked.

"My Christmas wish," Taylor responded happily.

"Your...Christmas wish? I don't understand," Joss repeated. She was flummoxed by her son's comment. What did his wish have to do with decorating the house?

"The letter – the one you took me to see Santa for – that one – that's what I requested: A dad," Taylor replied earnestly.

"You requested a dad?"

"And a husband for you. And it looks like Santa made my wish come true," Taylor chortled with glee.

Joss's eyebrows knitted together as she tried to make sense of the revelation. "Are you...are you saying that John – er, Officer Reese is your Christmas present?" she sputtered. "You guys planned this?" she accused with unveiled surprise.

"Actually, it was Taylor's idea," Mila corrected. "He knew what needed to be done, all he needed was a little help. Now take off your coat so I can hang it up."

"He's quite the little hard-charger," Lionel complimented. "I wouldn't be surprised if he grows up to be president." He chuckled at the thought.

Joss shrugged out of the heavy coat, then turned to look at John. "Did you know about this?"

"Honestly? Not really, but..." John reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope. "I found this on the sidewalk. I was going to return it to its owner." He handed it to Joss. "I didn't know."

Joss took the letter out and read it. Her eyes scanned each and every word. "You did this because you felt obligated?" Her heart constricted at the thought that she and Taylor had been played.

John shook his head. "No, Joss. I -"

"That's my letter!" Taylor nearly shouted and hurried over to where John stood. He snatched the paper out of John's hand and read it. "I gave this to Santa; how did you get it?"

"I found it. Or rather, it found me, I guess," John said.

"And the Big Brother thing was all...what? A ploy?" Joss whispered.

"No, Joss. Listen. I wasn't sure what to do or where to go after you walked out during the party, but then I received the call from the director. I thought it was a coincidence. And had you told me to get lost that morning, I would have turned around and walked away. But then I looked into your big brown eyes and I felt my heart coming back to life," John confessed, his eyes held hers. It was breaking his heart that she thought he might be lying, but he wasn't going to let her walk away. Not this time. Never again.

Joss tread carefully. "Why?"

"From the moment I saw you, you're all I've ever wanted. It took losing you to make me realize that my place is beside you. Because I fell in love with you, Joss."

"You-you love me?" Joss blinked and tried to tell herself that she couldn't have heard what she thought she had. Of course she had heard it before, but that was when he had turned and walked away. Now he was saying it, and she wanted to believe with all of her heart that he meant it.

"I do," John confirmed. The room was deathly quiet as all eyes were focused on the pair standing in the middle of the room and what might come next. "I know you've been hurt, Joss. I can't promise that I'm never going to hurt your heart, but I promise with everything I have that I will never break it. I will never cause you to cry anything less than happy tears."

"How do I know it isn't Taylor that you want to be with instead of me?" Right or wrong, Joss had to know what was really in John's heart. She couldn't bear to know anything less than the truth.

"Taylor is the reason you and I are together; there is no way I couldn't want to be in this without him. But he's not the sole reason why I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you let me show you how much I love you, I would like to make a couple more Taylors with you. And maybe a couple of little girls who look like their mother."

Joss gasped and pressed her fingers to her trembling lips. She blinked quickly but a few tears slipped out to run down her cheeks. Mila grabbed one of the fancy red serviettes on the table and pressed it to the corners of her eyes.

Taking a handkerchief discreetly out of his pants pockets, Lionel tried to act nonchalant as he loudly blew his nose. All eyes turned to look at him. "What? It's sympathy hormones."

Samantha gave him a knowing smile. "Sure, Lionel." She took his hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze of understanding.

"So, what do you say, Joss?" John asked.

"I-"

"Get down," Taylor ordered in a loud stage whisper.

"What?" John returned.

"On your knee. If you're going to propose, you have to do it on one knee. Like they do in the movies."

John knelt down and took Joss's hand in his. "What do you say, Joss? Will you marry me?"

Nodding her head, Joss whispered, "Yes. Yes." John pulled himself up and took her in his arms. He lowered his head to kiss her.

"Great!" Lionel exclaimed and clapped his hands together. "Now we can get this show on the road."

Stunned by the outburst, John and Joss looked at him. "What is he talking about?" Joss asked cautiously.

"I have no idea." And John didn't.

At that exact moment there was a knock on the door. Sprinting over, Lionel opened it. "Hey, Judge Gates. Good to see you," he greeted the tall, round man.

"I have the marriage license. Everything good to go?" Judge Gates wondered as his sharp eye took in everything.

"Yep."

"Hey Taylor," Sam Gates said as he walked into the room behind his dad.

"Hey Sam." The two friends greeted each other with their secret handshake.

"Taylor, would you mind if I ask Lionel to be my Best Man?" John asked.

"That's alright," Taylor answered. "I want to give my mom away." He proudly took his place beside Joss.

"Here, Joss." Samantha handed a bouquet of flowers to her best friend.

"They're lovely." Joss sniffed the delicate red, white, and pink rose buds nestled in baby's breath. "Would you like to be my Matron of Honour?" she offered the position.

Samantha took Joss's hand in hers and gave a loving squeeze. "I thought you'd never ask." She took her place behind Joss.

Standing in front of the tree, Judge Gates cleared his throat. "If all of you would take your places, please. Dearly beloved-"

"Wait!" Lionel pointed the remote at the stereo and hit a button. The soft strains of "Johann Pachelbel's Canon in D" filled the room. "That's better." The music slowly weaved through out the room and added a certain kind of ambiance to the moment.

Pausing briefly, Judge Gates began again. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and woman in holy matrimony. If anyone has just cause why they should not be joined, speak now, or forever hold your peace." The room was quiet. No one moved.

"Who gives this woman to this man?" the judge inquired.

"I do," Mila and Taylor replied simultaneously.

"Jocelyn Margaret Carter, do you take this man, John Benjamin Reese, to be your lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" Judge Gates recited the vows.

"I do!" Joss looked at John and smiled.

"And do you, John Benjamin Reese, take Jocelyn Margaret Carter to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" Judge Gates repeated the vows.

"I do. Until the day I die."

"May I have the rings?" Judge Gates asked.

A low murmur went thru the room. "Rings?" Everyone looked at each other. Looking up, Taylor noticed a box resting on the branch of the tree. Pulling it off, he opened it. And smile broadly.

"Found them!"

"Where? How?" Joss wondered aloud.

"Here." Taylor handed the box to John.

John took the rings out and held them in his palm. He handed her the wide white gold silver ring. "Here."

"How is this possible?" Joss asked.

"I'm beginning to think Taylor might have an 'in' with the jolly, fat man in the red suit," John chuckled lightly.

"I think this one is yours, Joss," he said softly and slid the diamond solitaire in a white gold setting over his beloved's third finger. Taking her hand in his, he brought it to his lips and kissed it. "For always."

Joss slid the ring over John's finger. "For always."

Judge Gates bestowed a smile on the couple. "With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. John, you may kiss your bride."

John didn't need further encouragement. Taking Joss in his arms, he dipped his head to seal their promise. Sweet and gentle, they wanted it to go on forever.

"Hey. Hey. Wonderboy, you know there are kids here, right?" Lionel's voice interrupted the moment. "Save it for the honeymoon, okay?"

John pulled back. Sudden realization hit him and he closed his eyes. "Honeymoon... I can't. I have to work," he said regretfully. His heart sank at the thought of having to postpone his and Joss' honeymoon.

"Not anymore. I worked it out with the Chief, and Donnelly is going to take your shift for the week. Of course you're going to have to take his when you get back. Consider it a wedding present from all of us."

"I don't know what to say, Lionel."

"'Thank you' would be great. Except you'll be having to work with Stills." Lionel made a face. "Gotta warn you that he does have this affinity for chili-cheese burritos. So, good luck with that one, pal." He slapped John on the back and gave a knowing wink.

John seemed unfazed. "As long as I don't have to pay for them, I can handle it." He turned to take Joss in his arms. "And as long as I have you beside me, Joss, I can handle anything."

"Me too." She stood on tip-toe to kiss him.

"How about some cake?" Mila announced.

Lionel slapped his hands together and licked his lips. "Cake sounds good to me." Bear barked his approval.

"Wait!" Taylor came over to his step-dad and mom. In his hands he held the star that had been discarded a week earlier. "Mom?"

"What is it Taylor?" Joss asked.

"Remember when you said I could have the tree for Christmas and I said I didn't want it unless I got something in return?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'll take it on one condition." Taylor looked at the tree. "I want you to put the angel on the tree, Mom." He handed her the china figurine dressed in white and silver.

"Taylor..." Joss held the delicate angel in her hands. "I can't."

"What? Why?"

"Not unless we do it as a family. Here," she handed the angel to her son, "you get the honours."

"Let me help you, son," John offered and lifted Taylor to the height of the tree. "There you go." Making sure the ornament was secured on the top branch, John brought Taylor down and set him on the floor. Leaning down, he turned the lights on. Twice they flickered, then lit up with various colours of the season.

Putting his arm around Taylor's shoulder, he gave a hug. With his other arm, he drew Joss in and held her tight against him. The three of them stood and looked at the tree.

"It's beautiful," Joss breathed. "I forgot how beautiful a Christmas tree is." She blinked back tears of regret.

"Never again, Joss. I promise. Every Christmas is going to be better than the last. I cross my heart."

"I know."

"And you, son," John looked down at Taylor, "thank you for keeping your promise of giving me a great Christmas."

"You're welcome, Dad."

Unable to reply, John tried to swallow around the lump in his throat as he held his family tight. Never had he been so blessed. Every misstep and detour and broken heart had led him to the woman and boy in his arms, and the family standing beside him. Never again would he walk in the dark. No, he had everything anyone could ever want. And it was only going to get better.

"Hey," Lionel spoke up, "can we eat the cake now?"  
********

Snuggled in an over-sized chair, a white bearded man bent over and pulled on his coal black boots. Shifting his feet inside, he secured the fit. Then he adjusted his suspenders.

"Here's your hat," a white haired, bespectacled lady offered as she walked into the cozy room. "I have your cocoa ready."

"No time for that, Grace. I have to get in the sky if I'm going to get those presents delivered in time."

Grace looked at the large snow globe sitting on the table. "Well, you already delivered one gift tonight, Harold," she observed. She walked over to the coat tree and took the large red coat down. She held it open. Harold slipped his arms inside. He buttoned it up.

"Dropping that letter so Officer Reese would find it was pretty sneaky," Grace chastised lightly.

"There was no other way to get them together. I never expected him to write her a ticket, though. The whole plan was nearly ruined."

"I had faith in you."

"I almost didn't make it," he confessed wearily. "If it hadn't been for Taylor..." He shook his head. "I don't know what I would have done."

Grace brushed a bit of lint off the red coat. "They're together now. So you made it work."

"All's well that ends well, I suppose," Harold agreed.

"Well, you know what they say: When all seems lost, hope is born again in a child's faith," Grace recited.

"I'll have to make sure he gets his Christmas present a little early next year." Harold set the globe back on the table and pulled on his gloves. He placed his hat on his head. "How do I look?"

"Handsome." Grace leaned in to kiss him, then paused. "Wait. What other Christmas present did Taylor want?"

"A sister."

Grace laughed softly. "If anyone can deliver, it would be you. Merry Christmas Mr. Claus."

"Merry Christmas Mrs. Claus," Harold returned and kissed her, while outside the snow fell to blanket the world as its gift for Christmas morning.

 _ **The End.**_

* * *

 _ **Love.  
**_ _ **It always protects, always trusts, always hopes,  
**_ _ **always perseveres. Love never fails.  
**_ _ **1 Corinthians 13:7-8**_

 _ **And now these three remain:  
Faith, Hope, Love.  
But the greatest of these is Love.  
1 Corinthians 13:13**_


End file.
